Irreparable
by Nyiestra
Summary: A false accusation leads to divisive revelations for the Jump Street team. SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Irreparable

**Summary:** A false accusation leads to divisive revelations for the Jump Street team, but they overcome their differences in the face of a tragic event – and a case with deeply personal resonance.

**Warning: **Slash – homosexual content, rape, depression – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

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**Chapter 1**

"My office, Hanson. Now." Fuller's voice left no room for argument. Hanson rose, slowly, following his CO toward the back of the Chapel.

Inside, he waited quietly as Fuller circled his desk. The man rifled through some papers on top before raising his eyes. "Boys downtown had an interesting Q&A with Chris Bartero," he finally said, and Hanson raised an eyebrow.

"Bartero? The dealer from Central we just busted?"

"One and the same."

"What, did he accuse Booker an' me of getting high with him?"

"I wish. Sit down, Hanson."

Tom frowned but lowered himself into a chair. Something was wrong. He could see it in Fuller's face. That, and the fact that he hadn't even cracked a smile at his joke. "What is it, Captain?"

"You know how old Bartero is, Hanson?"

"Fifteen, right?"

"Yeah." Fuller finally sat down himself and began stacking and restacking the files already piled neatly on the corner of the desk. "He accused you of, ah…"

"What is it, Captain?" Hanson asked again. He couldn't remember ever seeing Fuller so uncomfortable in all the time they'd worked together. "He accused me of what?"

"Sleeping with him. The night after the first bust, the first time your whole group was dragged downtown."

Hanson was fairly certain his jaw was on the floor. He rose slowly, shaking his head. "Captain, I... no way. I've never slept with anybody on a case, and if I was going to, I'd have made sure they were legal!"

Fuller held up a hand, his mouth in a thin line. "I believe you. One, because I know you and I don't believe you're that stupid. Two, because every other time you've screwed up, you've owned up, no matter what it might have meant for your career, and I don't see this time being any different. But, there's going to be an investigation, no matter what I think."

Fuller clasped his hands, resting his forearms on the desk. "Hanson, I'm gonna need you to be completely up front with me." Tom nodded slowly, knowing what was coming. "Normally, I wouldn't ask this because, frankly, I don't care. But I don't have a choice right now." He paused. "Are you, ah…"

Tom turned away, asking slowly, "Am I gay?" Might as well save the captain the discomfort. Never mind his own. Not waiting for a response he answered simply, "Yes."

"And are you… involved with anyone?"

Hanson's looked through the glass, eyes fixing on Booker. The other officer was leaning against a file cabinet, locked in conversation with Judy and Penhall, but his eyes were on the door to Fuller's office.

Hanson turned back to the captain. "No. But just because I don't have a boyfriend of my own doesn't mean I'm going to go screw around with a fifteen-year-old!" He heard his voice rise a few decibels and fought to bring it back down. "Sorry, Captain."

"It's okay. Hanson, I believe you. I told you that. And I think the consensus downtown is going to be that this kid is just trying to bring you down with him. But there _has_ to be an investigation. And it's going to start with them asking you where you were that night. If you can prove you were somewhere else…"

"I can't. I remember it. Got bailed out and went home." The lie came out a little too easily. Then he rubbed his shoulder, remembering the arrest. "The uniforms were a little rough. Took a couple aspirin and passed out early."

He clenched his teeth and worked his jaw slowly. "So, what now? Am I on suspension?"

"At the moment, no. I can't tell you where things will stand in an hour, or a day."

"I understand."

"You are, however, on a desk. Mostly so no one can accuse the department of putting a suspected…" Fuller broke off and looked down.

"A suspected what, Captain? Child molester? Or rapist? What does a fifteen-year-old get me?" He knew full well what the answer would be, and though he knew Fuller was trying to be compassionate about the whole situation, the angry part of him wanted someone else to be hurting a little too.

The cop in Fuller took over as he raised his eyes. "Felony rape, third degree. Three years in prison, maybe four."

"It'd be four," Hanson muttered. "Not that I'd survive six months. A cop who raped a kid?"

"Hanson—"

"Captain, do I need to be here? Can I just go home?"

"You and Booker have some paperwork to finish out—"

"I can do that at home."

Fuller regarded him for a second before nodding. "All right. Just, make sure you stay around. I'd rather not have an all-points put out on one of my men."

"Right." Tom turned on his heel and yanked the door open, not bothering to close it behind him. He stalked over to his desk, grabbing his jacket off the chair, and headed for the door. As he went, he could feel eyes on him – Harry, Doug, Judy, and, most of all, Dennis – but didn't bother to even acknowledge them.

Outside, he ran down the steps, heading straight for his Mustang. He heard footsteps behind him, knew without thinking who they belonged to, but didn't stop. Climbing in, he threw the vehicle into drive almost before he'd even turned it on. Just before pulling into the street, he glanced into his rearview mirror and saw Booker standing at the top of the stairs.

-------------------------

Booker watched Hanson peel out of the lot and fly down the street. Even after he was gone, he stayed where he was, staring after the car, until he heard footsteps behind him. Doug was standing there, frowning. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know. You know what Fuller wanted to talk to him about?"

"Uh-uh. Heard him on the phone earlier though, something about Bartero. That was the case you were on with him, right?"

"Yeah."

"Anything weird about it?"

Dennis shook his head. "Nothing. Whole damn thing might have come out of a textbook. Clean collar, all the t's crossed and the i's dotted. Wish they were all like that."

Before either of them could say another word, Judy appeared. "Fuller wants us all in his office."

As they headed back inside, Booker half-heard Penhall ask Hoffs if he knew what the Captain wanted to talk to them about, half-heard her negative reply, and tried to figure out what could be up with his case.

He needn't have bothered, though, because as it turned out, that was what Fuller wanted to see to them about. As soon as the door closed behind Ioki, the Captain said simply, "Hanson's on the sidelines for a while."

"This about Bartero?" Booker asked, earning himself a glare from Penhall and a raised eyebrow from Fuller.

"Actually, yes. How did you know?"

"Heard you on the phone," he replied. No point in getting the Captain mad at Doug and Doug mad at him.

"Ah. Well, Hanson's been accused of statutory rape. Technically, rape three, because Chris Bartero is fifteen years old."

Booker nearly choked. "What?" His wasn't the only shocked reply.

"Bartero accused Hanson of… going home with him the night of the first bust they made on that crew."

"And he's being taken seriously?" Penhall asked, eyes wide. "He's just trying to get the cop who busted him in trouble – and get himself off."

"It won't hold up," Judy said, and Dennis was surprised at the confidence in her voice. "Hanson's a good cop; he's never fooled around with anybody on a case. Not to mention he's straight. No way anyone's going to believe he screwed around with a fifteen-year-old _boy_."

For all that Fuller was usually good at keeping his thoughts off his face, he failed that time, and Booker knew that if he could see it, the others could too. Doug confirmed it. "What, Captain?"

But Fuller just shook his head, his face once more an unreadable mask. "There's still going to be an investigation, and until it's over – maybe even beyond that, depending on how the cards fall – Hanson's behind a desk."

"Because city hall doesn't want it to look like they put a suspected rapist in a high school," Booker snapped, and the Captain nodded.

"Exactly. He hasn't been suspended – which tells you that they aren't quite ready to buy into this kid's story. But there are… circumstances that are going to make it harder for Hanson to fight this, _and_ he has no alibi for the night the kid claims it happened."

Dennis did a double-take. He could have sworn… "_Which_ night was this?"

"The first bust, in the warehouse district," he responded.

"Captain," Doug asked before Booker had a chance to say anything more, "is Bartero claiming Hanson forced him, or…?"

"No. He says it was consensual. Of course, he also was quick to point out that he thought Hanson was a teenager, just like him. Which, if this makes it to trial – and I don't see that happening – is going to make things that much harder on him."

Fuller sighed. "Anyway, I gave Hanson the rest of the day off. He should be back tomorrow. Don't say anything to him about this, okay?"

Amidst nods, they all shuffled out of the office and Penhall fell into step beside Booker. "_Textbook case_, huh?"

"Too good to be true," Dennis muttered, ignoring the glare Doug fixed him with, as if this was somehow all his fault.

He headed to his desk, made a show of flipping through some files, then headed over to Hanson's and did the same. "Damn it," he muttered, just loud enough for Judy to hear. As he walked back by her desk he said, "I think Hanson has one of the files I need at his place. If the Captain asks, I'll be back."

"Booker, do you _really_ think he's going to want to see you right now?" Hoffs asked, frowning at him.

Giving her a grin he asked simply, "Why not?" He headed for the door, conscious of her and Penhall's eyes boring holes in his back. They'd live.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression,sucidal thoughts– and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. :-PIf you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**Spee - **:hugs: Luv ya! And I'll be as evil as ever, you can bet

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**Chapter 2**

Hanson sat down on his couch and drew his knees up to his chest. The television was on, but he was so lost in his own head he didn't hear much more than an electronic buzz. After a few minutes, he realized that the sound was actually the apartment's buzzer. He spent another minute debating whether he wanted to pretend he wasn't home, then heard Booker's voice. "I know you're home, man. Let me in."

Tom spent another minute deciding whether to ignore him or not, but finally realized Dennis was more likely to kick in his door than walk away, and he wasn't keen on the idea of having to explain that to his landlord. He rose stiffly – must have been sitting there longer than he'd thought – and made his way to the door. Opening it, he stood in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

He stood still for a moment, meeting the other man's dark eyes, then nodded and took a couple steps backward. "Yeah, sure."

Booker closed the door behind him and Hanson retreated to the couch. Sitting back down, he picked up the remote and considered for a moment whether he wanted to turn the volume up or down, and ended up switching it off. "What are you doing here?"

"Fuller told us what happened," Dennis said quietly.

"Terrific."

"Hey." Booker walked toward him, kneeling down in front of him, and reached a hand out.

"Don't touch me." For some reason, the idea of Dennis's touch made him feel dirty, sick.

The other man recoiled, stung, but nodded. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I guess, under the circumstances…"

"Yeah. Under the circumstances," Hanson retorted, trying to glare but ending up blinking back tears. He swallowed hard. "You… you remember Doug's case, in Major Crimes? The sportswriter whose ex accused him of molesting his kid?"

"Tom, that's not the same thing."

"How? Because this guy was fifteen instead of four? It's still a sex crime, man. It's… hell, it's a felony. He's under sixteen."

"It's not public, that's _why_," Booker replied. "You weren't dragged out of a restaurant in handcuffs. You haven't been arrested or charged or any of that bullshit. Fuller'll take care of this before it becomes a thing, and everything'll get back to normal."

"It's already a thing, Booker!" Hanson snapped. "A fifteen-year-old boy accused me of rape!"

"He accused you of having sex with him."

"It's rape."

"Technically."

"Everything's technical," Tom replied bitterly. Then, just as quickly as it had come on, his anger dissipated. "I told Fuller I'm gay."

He searched Dennis's face for a reaction, cringing inwardly when he saw nothing but a blank stare. They sat like that for a full minute before Hanson finally pushed his shoulder gently. "Say something, man."

"Did you, uh…"

"No." Hanson shook his head. "Don't worry. You're safe."

"The hell, Tom?" Booker stared at him, looking a little stunned, then rose and repositioned himself next to Hanson. "Why did you say that?"

"You don't have to worry; I'm not about to out you to Fuller." Tom watched the other man for his reaction. Booker chewed his bottom lip, his frown deepening.

Finally, he actually spoke. "Yeah, Captain said you told him you didn't have an alibi for that night." Hanson shrugged and looked away. "Hanson, there are only two ways you can get out of this. The cops can break the kid down and get him to admit he's lying, or you can prove you were somewhere else that night."

"Then I guess I'm screwed."

"Are you kidding?" Dennis's mouth was wide open. "If you think for a second I'm letting you go to jail for rape to save my own ass, you're off your rocker!"

Tom stared at him, unblinking, and finally let Booker take his hand. "You're going back to the Chapel, and you're going to tell Fuller where you were that night."

"This could ruin your career."

"No more than yours."

"But you…"

"Do you ever stop thinking?" Dennis asked him. He leaned forward slowly, brushing his lips against Hanson's. "My career or your life, huh? That's a pretty easy choice, for me anyway."

"I didn't think you wanted Fuller to know."

"Well, I don't. That's true," Dennis admitted. "And neither do you. But if it means you ending up losing your job, getting labeled as a sex offender, and going to prison, well, coming out of the closet looks like a pretty good idea to me."

Tom blinked, surprised to find that the tears had returned. "Think about it, okay?"

"There's nothing—"

"Promise me you'll think about it," he demanded. "I mean it, Dennis. Please."

"Okay. I promise. But Hanson, the sooner you talk to Fuller, the sooner we can straighten this out."

"I can't go back there today. I don't want to face Doug and Jude and Harry."

"You didn't do anything wrong!"

"It sure as hell looks like I did."

Booker threw his hands up in the air. "Can I, like, choke you? Seriously?" Hanson didn't reply, so Dennis kept talking. "I was in with Penhall and Hoffs and Ioki when Fuller told us what was up. And not one of them believes it. Not even close. They all see it for exactly what it is – the kid's trying to get himself off by screwing you over. Nobody thinks you actually did a damn thing."

Tom didn't pull away when Booker put his arm around him, just lay his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, allowing himself to feel comforted by his touch. "I still can't go back today, Dennis."

"Then I'll tell him myself."

"No. I… I want to be with you when you tell him," he said softly. "Tomorrow will be soon enough." Even without looking, he could feel Booker's skepticism, but the other man didn't speak. After a long silence he said, "Thank you."

This time he did look, and Dennis's surprise was evident. "What for?"

"For coming over, for doing this for me. It's a risk, Dennis."

Booker was silent for a second, then asked, "How did Fuller react?"

Tom frowned at the non-sequitur. "Huh?"

"How did he react when you told him you're gay?"

Hanson shrugged. "He didn't really care. Even when he asked me he said normally he wouldn't care, but he had to know, considering the situation. He had a little trouble spitting out the question though."

"Can't blame him." Dennis shifted, tightening his arm around Hanson. Tom heard him take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Not disengaging himself from Booker, Hanson turned a little to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"

The other man shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Just a little nervous, I guess. I mean, it's not like everybody hasn't already had it in for Jump Street. Parents don't like cops being in schools as it is, never mind gay cops."

"No kidding."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, Hanson again reveling in the warmth and comfort of Booker's arms. "You need to go back, don't you?" he finally said.

"Yeah. I told Hoffs I needed to get a file from you; I think she thought I was going to give you a hard time. She didn't want me to come."

"I'm glad you did."

"Me too." Hanson felt Dennis's lips brush his cheek and smiled for the first time since he'd walked into Fuller's office.

"Thanks, Dennis."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yes I do." He paused. "I love you."

"Love you too."

"Now get back to work."

-------------------------

Walking back into the chapel, Booker headed straight for his desk. He'd been sitting down for all of thirty seconds before Judy appeared in front of him. "How is he?"

"Been better," he replied shortly. "He's got himself convinced everyone's going to believe it, and he's obsessing over that sportswriter that Penhall busted when he was in with major crimes. And he's freaking out over being accused of rape. It's really messing with his head."

He could tell that Hoffs was at a loss. "He actually talked to you? I was wondering why you were gone so long."

"Yeah. Contrary to popular belief, I actually do have an ounce or two of compassion. I'm not an asshole, Judy, and I don't like to kick people when they're down."

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I just… you're not always the most tactful person, Dennis."

"Yeah, well, your faith in me is astounding." Booker rolled his eyes. "You know, you, Harry, and Penhall aren't the only people here who consider Hanson a friend."

"You haven't exactly acted like much of a friend to him."

"There's a lot you don't know, Hoffs."

"Apparently."

Dennis looked past her and saw Doug making his way over. "Oh, for… would you two save the double-teaming for the dealers and gangbangers?"

"How's Hanson?" Penhall asked gruffly, ignoring his remark.

"Lousy. He's depressed and pissed and wants to be left alone. He doesn't want to see anyone because he's convinced people are going to believe he actually did it."

"He's nuts," Doug muttered. "Does he _really_ think that?"

"Yes. As I just told Judy – next time you do this, can you both come over at once so I don't have to repeat myself ten times? – he keeps thinking about the case you had with Major Crimes. And the fact that he's been accused of rape is really screwing with him."

"It's different. And nobody believes that kid."

"I know that. And you know that. And she knows that." Booker pointed at Hoffs. "But you know Hanson. And _he_ doesn't know that."

"Did you tell him?"

Dennis blinked. "Are you for real? No, I sat there, listened to him, and decided he was better off thinking his life is over. Of _course_ I told him."

He was saved from further questioning when Fuller came out of his office and yelled for Hoffs and Penhall. As they walked away, he realized just how little the rest of the unit actually trusted him. It was funny. When he'd first joined Jump Street, it'd been Judy who defended him to Hanson. Now Hoffs couldn't stand him and he and Tom were spending the nights together more often then not.

Knowing that Hanson trusted him helped, but it was starting to hit him just how much it bothered him that the others didn't. He watched Penhall close Fuller's door behind them and sighed. "Back to work, Booker."


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts– and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**rosepetal - **Thanks sooo much! I hope I get some more reviews too, ;) but don't worry, I'll update regardless.Doesn't mean you shouldn't review, though.Got a LOT more of this fic written and just waiting ;) There will be plenty more interaction with Booker and Hanson ... plenty more ;) And it'll just get angstier from here. Oh, and did I mention there actually will be a case or ten, too:-P

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**Chapter 3**

Booker knocked on Fuller's open door, conscious of Hanson's presence behind him. "You have a few minutes, Captain?"

"This about Bartero?" Dennis blinked; those were his exact words from the day before.

"Yeah, it is."

"Come on in. And close the door."

As he walked in, he felt Tom's hand brush gently against the small of his back and felt infinitely better for the simple gesture. He waited until Fuller was sitting behind his desk and then jumped right in. "Hanson lied to you yesterday." Out of the corner of his eye he saw his boyfriend tense.

The Captain just raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"About not having an alibi," Booker clarified. "The night of that bust, we went back to my place. Hanson, he, uh, spent the night." Having gotten the words out, he took a deep breath and released it slowly, watching for the Captain's reaction and not knowing quite what to expect.

Fuller looked skeptical and when he spoke, Dennis realized he'd misinterpreted his hesitation and nervousness. "Look, guys, I understand where you're coming from. But we have to do this the legal way."

"Captain, it's true," Hanson said softly.

The Captain glanced between them, frowning, and nodded. "Okay. Let's say it is. But first of all, that may not be enough. You guys were partners on this case. This guy wins and he walks, and it makes sense you wouldn't want to see that happen. That's all the motivation in the world for you to lie. Never mind the obvious motive, trying to keep you alive and out of prison." He glanced over at Hanson for a moment, then looked back. "Second, just because Hanson crashed at your place doesn't mean he didn't leave and come back while you were asleep. I know it's a stretch, but that's what his lawyer will say and you really can't fight it."

"Yes I can." Booker took another deep breath, becoming keenly aware of the fact that he was shaking a little. He glanced toward Tom, saw him take a step forward, but shook his head and turned back to Fuller. "If Hanson had left, I'd have known. I usually notice when the person I'm in bed with gets up."

Hanson spoke again. "I lied twice, Captain. About the alibi, and about whether I was dating anyone." Dennis turned toward him and Hanson walked over, dropping his hand down. Booker reached for him, giving it a gentle squeeze and not quite letting go.

"Are you telling me what I _think_ you're telling me?" Fuller asked.

"Yeah," Booker said. "Me and Hanson, uh…"

The Captain shook his head. "Just answer a question for me?" Dennis frowned but nodded. "Do the five of you go home at night and try to come up with new ways to make life difficult for me?"

Booker cracked a smile, but Hanson apparently missed the point. "Due respect, Captain, but I wouldn't say you're the one whose life has just become more difficult."

"It was a joke, Hanson. Maybe a poor one, and I apologize."

Dennis glanced at Tom, giving him a small smile, and his boyfriend looked suitably abashed. "Sorry."

"Forget it.'

"What now, Captain?" Booker asked, releasing Hanson's hand.

"I'll pass the information downtown. There's a chance that they may not believe you," he warned, and Dennis stared at him, incredulous.

"What cop in his right mind – especially a cop who goes into high schools – would admit to being gay if he wasn't?" he exclaimed.

"You have a point, and it probably won't be an issue. My guess is that when he's confronted with evidence, Bartero will break down."

"Captain, if he does tell the truth, how, uh, public is this going to get? I mean, if he backs off, it won't become an issue, will it?" Hanson asked.

Booker could see a little compassion in Fuller's eyes. "Not likely. City Hall won't want the accusation getting out – whether it gets dropped or not. But it'll probably make the rounds through the department fairly quickly, so be prepared for that."

He folded his hands and looked at them both. "There _will_ be people who won't like this – at all. And the whole program will probably get more heat from downtown. But you both must have known that before getting involved."

Dennis sighed. "Yeah."

"If I have anything to say about it – and I will – neither of you is getting pulled out of Jump Street. And if anyone's giving you a hard time, let me know and I'll take care of it."

"We can handle—"

"I mean it, Booker. You have a problem with anybody, and you let me know. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Go get some work done. I'll call you in when I know something about Bartero."

"Thanks."

On the way out, Dennis felt his boyfriend's hand on his hip for just a second. They separated only moments later, but he watched Tom as he crossed to his desk, not missing the glances Hanson sent in his direction.

-------------------------

Hanson was halfway to Booker's desk when Doug stopped him. "I'm just running out to grab lunch. You want to come?"

He looked past Penhall to Dennis, who'd raised his head at Doug's words, and stifled a sigh. He and Booker needed to talk; they hadn't said a word to each other after walking out of Fuller's office. But at the same time, if he turned Penhall down, things would get tense. Unless…

"Actually, Booker and were heading out." With his eyes, he pleaded with the other man to go along with him. "Trying to figure out how to deal with Bartero."

Behind Doug, Dennis stood. "Yeah, you ready?"

"Oh, uh, okay. Maybe tonight, pizza and beer or something?"

"Sounds good." He clapped Doug on the shoulder and then looked to Booker again. "Set?"

"Yeah."

Hanson couldn't help but notice how ill-at-ease his lover looked. As Doug walked off, he moved closer to Dennis. "You okay?" he asked softly, brushing his fingertips against the back of Booker's hand.

"Yeah. Let's get out of here, huh?"

They headed to a pizza place a good distance from the Chapel, taking a table in a back corner. "Why are we really here?" Dennis asked once they'd given the waitress their order and had their drinks in front of them.

"You okay?"

Booker gave him a quizzical look. "Why?"

"Man, even your mother doesn't know, and you just came out to our boss." He studied his boyfriend's face carefully, trying to pick up on any feelings he might be fighting with but unwilling to give voice to. "Are you okay?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "Yeah. I mean, I'm not really keen on Fuller knowing, or anybody else, for that matter. My image and all, y'know?" He grinned and Tom returned it, knowing by now what a defense mechanism it was. "Guess I better get used to the idea, though."

"That's the other reason I wanted to talk to you," Hanson said, keeping his voice low. "Fuller's right. Half the department'll know by the end of the week. How do we deal with that?"

"Well, what can we do? I mean…?"

"How out of the closet are you prepared to be?" Tom asked slowly.

"I don't know." Dennis shifted uncomfortably, and Hanson could tell that at that moment he wanted to be anywhere but there.

"I'm not too thrilled about the whole world knowing, but part of me is kind of glad, because it's making us stop hiding. I'm kinda tired of it."

"Tom…"

Hanson interrupted him. "I know, I know. I'm the one who got dumped because he wasn't ready to come out, remember? But, still… aren't you sick of it?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to deal with all the crap that comes with being out, Tom."

"Well, we're going to be getting that now no matter what we do. So…"

"What, do you want to walk into the Chapel holding hands?" Booker snapped, and Hanson sighed.

"No. But I want to tell Judy and Ioki and Doug."

As he'd expected, Dennis was silent for a long time – long enough for the waitress to bring their food and leave again, and for them to get half into their meals. But when he finally did speak, the words were far from what Hanson had thought they would. "They hate me."

"What?" Hanson did a double-take. "What are you talking about?"

"Doug and Judy both seemed to think I went to your place yesterday to harass you, to rub it in or something. Doug actually asked me if I told you no one believed Bartero was telling the truth, as if I'd let you sit there thinking…" he trailed off and Hanson reached across the table to take his hand.

"They don't hate you," he said quietly. "Distrust you, maybe. But that's as much my fault as anyone else's, considering how I acted when you first showed up."

"Yeah, well, I just can't see them being thrilled that you're sleeping with me." Dennis looked down, toying with what was left of his slice of pizza before tearing a piece off the crust. "And I guess I'm kinda scared to know how they'll react. Doug is so damn protective of you, you might as well be dating him instead of me, and…"

Hanson raised an eyebrow. "Are you jealous?"

Shrugging, Dennis kept his eyes on his food, but he couldn't hide the flush that colored his face. "Aren't you nervous about how they'll react?"

"A little. Not as much as you are, apparently." He paused. "Dennis, I'm being serious now. Are you really that scared?"

He finally raised his eyes. "I'm not scared."

"Right."

"I'm not."

"Uh huh." Tom frowned. It wasn't that he couldn't understand. He could. He'd been scared shitless when he came out to his mother, and for a long time he'd been terrified of what his father would have thought, if he'd been alive to be there. But finally, he and his mom had had a long talk, and she hadn't absolved his fears, but she'd calmed them a little.

Dennis hadn't had that. The only people who knew about him, other than Hanson, were a handful of ex-lovers and a number of nameless patrons of a few gay bars in the city. "Dennis, you survived Fuller knowing—"

"So far," he interrupted.

Hanson snickered. "Okay. So far. Doug… he's a pussycat. Yeah, there are times he'd like nothing better than to take a swing at you," he paused as Dennis raised his eyes and glared, "but he won't do it for no reason. Ioki won't care and Judy, well, I think she'll be fine."

"Hoffs says I haven't acted like much of a friend." Hanson stared at him, incredulous. He'd never known Booker to act so insecure.

"That's because we've both been trying to act as distant as freakin' possible, Dennis." Tom couldn't keep his voice as low as he really wanted it to be. He sighed and moved his other hand to rest on Dennis's for just a second. "They're going to find out anyway, and I think it'll be easier if we tell them instead of waiting for it make it through the grapevine."

Booker sighed and finally nodded, eyes still down. "Okay. When?"

"Today? Tonight? I don't know, any time. I just, especially Doug. He's my best friend, and he's still my partner, nine times out of ten."

"You finished?" Tom started, meeting Dennis's eyes. "Eating. You done?"

"Oh. Yeah. Dennis—"

"I'm okay. Tell Penhall." Booker pushed his plate toward the center of the table and stood. "Let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Irreparable

**Summary:** A false accusation leads to divisive revelations for the Jump Street team, but they overcome their differences in the face of a tragic event – and a case with deeply personal resonance.

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**A/N: Please notice that I keep changing the warning above slightly. I just want y'all to be aware. This fic is no walk in the park, and I deal with a lot of tough issues.**

**rosepetal - **Well, you're about to get a decent sense of at least one person's reaction. And that in general will be an underlying theme for most of the fic.

**Nina - **Thanks so much! I've searched for slash and found a little but you're right, there's not much at all - and what there is usually isn't Hanson/Booker, which is my 'ship of choice ;) In case you couldn't tell.

**Yume no Kokoro** - Thanks! I'm glad you like it. I used to very nervous about posting slash; it's nice to see people so into it.

**Geheimnis - :**is flattered I'm glad you chose it too! And I'm glad you liked that line. I like the sarcasm you tend to see in all the characters, and the edge in Booker's, so I have fun writing him in particular. And I've written LOTS of other stuff, but this is my first Jump Street fic.

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**Chapter 4**

Hanson opened the door to see Doug standing in the hall, six-pack in hand. "Hey," he greeted him, stepping back to allow him entrance.

"You got the game on?"

"Hasn't started yet. Rain delay."

Doug growled as he set the beer down. "You gotta be kidding me. First time I got a night free, and…" He shook his head, plopping down on the couch. "The world is out to get us, Hanson."

"You got that right," Tom muttered, liberating a can from the plastic rings and popping it open. He sank into a chair as Doug got his own beer. "I ordered the pizza. Should be here in ten or so."

"Sounds good." Doug grabbed the remote and turned the television on, scowling at the announcement scrolling across the bottom of the screen. "Rained out," he grumbled. "There anything else on?"

"Not really," Hanson shrugged, "I looked."

Glaring once more at the TV set, Penhall turned it off and tossed the control aside. Turning to Hanson he asked slowly, "How you holdin' up?"

Tom shrugged again, fixing his eyes on the can in his hands. "I'm okay." Inside his head, one part of him was yelling _Moment of truth, Tommy_ and the other was reminding him, oh so helpfully, _You can still back out. Dennis sure won't object._ Fact was, though, he couldn't, because Doug was going to be weird about this as it was, he was sure, never mind if he found out through the rumor mill.

"Fuller said he thinks Bartero'll retract his accusation. You know why?"

"Yeah, uh…" Hanson trailed off, taking a deep breath. "Doug, there's something I have to tell you."

"Yeah? What's up?"

Tom opened his mouth but before he could say a word, there was a knock at the door and Penhall was on his feet in a flat second. "Pizza!" Hanson stayed where he was, leaning back and closing his eyes. Maybe he oughta tie Doug to a chair until he actually got the words out.

No, then he'd probably get the wrong idea.

Hell, as it was, he'd probably get the wrong idea.

Doug returned, pizza box in hand, and Tom leaned forward to clear space on the coffee table for it. Setting the beer on the floor, he grabbed another can and opened it. He needed more alcohol.

Penhall pulled a slice out of the box and handed it to Tom before returning for one for himself and then closing the lid. "So," he mumbled around a mouthful of cheese, "what'd you want to talk about?"

Hanson rested his forearms on his knees, staring at his slice as if it was going to come to life. Then, so suddenly that he even surprised himself, he blurted out, "I'm gay."

He watched as Penhall, instead of freezing like he would have expected, continued moving the pizza toward his mouth, only to miss completely and smear sauce all over his cheek. Doug's mouth dropped open. "Huh?"

Tom finally took a bite, using food as an excuse not to answer right away. Swallowing, and washing it down with more beer, he repeated, "I'm gay." Amazing how, the second time, it was so much easier. He was struck by the uneasy expression that appeared on Doug's face as the bigger man glanced around for a minute, swiping at his face with a napkin, before finally meeting Tom's eyes.

"Uh, Hanson, why, uh, why you telling me this now? Huh?"

Hanson laughed outright, knowing instinctively what was going through Doug's head. "No offense, Penhall, but you aren't exactly my type."

"Oh." Doug looked as if he didn't know whether to be relieved or hurt, and in the end must have settled on relieved. "Well, uh, then, who is your type?"

_Hoo-boy._ "Uh, Doug, if I tell you, you gotta promise me you won't… say anything… to him. I mean, he's okay – sort of – with you knowing but, well, you aren't gonna be too happy." As he stopped speaking, Tom blinked, wondering if that had made sense to Penhall, because he wasn't sure it had made sense to himself.

It also occurred to him that he'd just more or less agreed with Dennis that Doug wouldn't like the idea of him dating Booker. Good thing he wasn't here; Tom hated having to admit that Dennis had been right.

"What do you think I'm gonna do, Hanson?"

"I don't know." Tom shrugged. "I just know you aren't going to like it."

"Would you just tell me already?"

"Dennis." Okay, he needed to stop surprising even himself when he spoke. That'd get him shot or something someday.

"_What?_" Doug exploded. "Hanson, are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. Would I tell you I was dating Booker just for kicks?"

"Maybe," Penhall retorted, and Tom glared at him.

"Well, I'm not. Joking, I mean. It's true. We are." _How long ago did you learn English, Tommy? Month or two?_

"Hanson, I thought you were smarter than that."

"Smarter than what?" This conversation was rapidly heading south, and Hanson found himself even more glad that Dennis wasn't present. "Smarter than what, Penhall?" he asked again when Doug didn't answer.

"Well, smarter than to date a guy at Jump Street, for one."

"Why? You didn't seem too worried when you were off chasing Hoffs."

"It's not the same."

"Why? Because it's a guy? Or because it's Booker?"

"Because… because… both, okay?"

Hanson glared, but nodded. It wasn't as if he hadn't been expecting this. "Okay. Let's start with Dennis. What's wrong with him?"

"I don't trust him as far as I can throw him," Doug said, his voice taking on a strange urgency. "And that _isn't_ very far."

"Why? Doug, I didn't trust him either, but I got to know him, and he's really a decent guy. Just puts up a front, most of the time."

"Ha! You call that a front? Nobody's that good an actor."

"You act long enough, you get it down pretty good," Tom retorted. "What's your problem with him, Penhall?"

"Hanson, remember, _I'm_ the one who told _you_ who he was when he first started at Jump Street. And _I'm_ the one who told _you_ that you were jumping to conclusions."

Boy did he remember. "And I was. What's your point?"

"My _point_ is, I knew more about him than I told you then, and I probably still know more about him than you do – at least, in some ways." Hanson felt a twinge of satisfaction as Doug's face flushed. "Remember I told you to be careful?"

"Yeah, because he was IAD."

"Not only that."

Tom leaned back in his chair, an uneasy feeling resting in the pit of his stomach. "What, Doug?"

From Penhall's hesitation, Hanson could see he was weighing his words carefully. The initial animosity was gone, and Doug's expression was serious and concerned. "Booker had a domestic called in on him, Hanson, almost a year before he came over to Jump Street. Put his girlfriend in the hospital. And IAD – _IAD_ – covered it up. I wanted you to be careful because if he'd lose it like that with a girl he was dating, who knew how he'd handle you or Jude or Ioki?"

Tom shook his head slowly, and Doug misinterpreted the body language. "Hanson, I wouldn't make that up. Especially not, y'know, with you dating him and all."

Hanson waved a hand. "Give me a minute, okay, Doug?" He knew Penhall wouldn't lie about something like that. He also knew that if he was basing it off a rumor, Doug would have told him. And he could – and this was the part that bothered him the most – see it happening. Dennis had a temper and, though he hadn't taken a swing at him since they'd gotten together, Tom had definitely been on the receiving end of more than one flare-up. "I believe you," he finally said.

"Then you get why I don't like—"

"Doug, listen to me. I believe you. And, yeah, he never said anything about that to me," which meant that he and Booker would be having a nice, long conversation at some point in the near future. "But I can handle myself. I'm not afraid of him; I wasn't then and I'm not now. Relax, huh?"

"Hanson—"

"Look, Doug. I'm going to be honest. I wouldn't even be telling you any of this except that Booker's my alibi for the night that Bartero was talking about, so it's going to get out anyway, and it's going to be hard enough on us both without you and Hoffs and Harry making it worse. So, even though you don't like it, could you at least be civil?"

Penhall frowned, but finally nodded. "Just, be careful, will you? I really don't trust him."

"No kidding," Hanson muttered. "Yeah, I'll be careful, okay?"

"Okay. You, uh, you telling Hoffs and Ioki?"

"I don't know. I should, but…" he trailed off and shot Doug a look. "How about you tell them, and the three of you can commiserate about how much you can't stand Dennis?"

Doug shook his head. "No way. You made your bed; you get to lie in it."

-------------------------

Dennis walked into the Chapel and almost stopped short. Half a dozen pairs of eyes fixed on him the second he came in, and followed him as he walked over to his desk. Getting himself a cup of coffee, he heard a bit of mumbling here and there, but nothing he could quite make out. Returning to his desk, he glanced across the room at Tom.

Hanson's head was down, and Booker could tell he wasn't actually doing anything but trying to ignore the whispering and tension in the room – and failing, at that. Setting his cup down, Dennis shook his head, somewhat impressed. Well, now they knew what kind of news would get the department gossips working overtime.

He opened a folder, skimming the reports Hanson had filled out on Bartero and his buddies. Letter-perfect, as usual. Idly, he wondered if the kid had come up with the idea of setting up Hanson on his own, or if his scumbag lawyer had suggested it. He'd seen the guy, and wouldn't put it past him. The creep struck Dennis as the type who started out his career loitering around emergency rooms.

"Booker, Hoffs, Hanson, Penhall." Booker raised his head, half expecting Fuller to go on calling names; sounded like he was taking attendance. Standing, he crossed the room, coffee in hand, and was the last one into the Captain's office.

"Good news, Hanson. Bartero cracked - apparently, he hadn't given any thought to what to do if he wasn't believed," Fuller paused and rolled his eyes,"and as of tomorrow, once they push the paperwork through, you're clear to get back into the field." Dennis watched some of the tension in Tom's shoulders evaporate, though his boyfriend didn't even crack a smile. Neither did the others.

Fuller went on, ignoring the strained atmosphere in the office. "Ioki's undercover at Barrington as we speak. Hanson, you and Hoffs are going to be joining him tomorrow morning."

"That the attempted murder, Coach? Hit and run in the high school parking lot?" Hanson asked.

"As of two-thirty this morning, it's flat-out murder. Parents took her off life support. Homicide likes the father for it so, Hanson, you're going to try to get close to the sister, see if she can give you anything on that angle." He frowned. "Ioki thinks there may be some domestic abuse there."

Booker frowned as Hanson shifted uncomfortably. "Why me, Captain?"

"Because you've got the experience. Out of everybody, you're probably the one who would pick up on the signs the easiest. That, and Ioki says you seem like her type." Dennis carefully kept his face expressionless as Hanson seemed to ease a bit.

"I don't know that I'd trust Harry to tell what someone's type is," he muttered. "What angle is he taking?"

"He's working the boyfriend," Fuller replied. "They had a knock-down drag-out with half the school as the audience the night before she was attacked. And he's the one the parents think did it. No evidence, though."

"Literally?" Tom asked.

"No, but apparently, pretty close." Fuller turned to Judy. "Hoffs, you can get out your pom poms."

"Cheerleading? Again? Captain, there _are_ guy cheerleaders, you know."

"Yeah, there are. But none that Melissa Richards was friendly with. Ioki did pick up that the girl was a small-time user – marijuana, primarily – and that's a possible angle. Feel out the friends, see if anybody knows where she was getting it."

"Captain, why isn't this case sticking with homicide?"

"Because nobody's saying anything, despite the fact that the guys who had it got the feeling that everybody knows something."

"You think it's something bigger?"

"Could be. Might not. You tell me." With that, Fuller turned toward Booker and Penhall. "In the last three weeks, three young men have reported being approached by a social studies teacher – a male teacher – offering them a way to fix their poor grades." The Captain looked down the bridge of his nose at them. "I'm sure you can guess his proposition. One of them them gave in; the other two failed their last two quizzes. Now, all three of them are friends, so it's possible they're making the entire thing up. You two get to figure it out."

It was Dennis's turn to look uncomfortable. "Uh, Captain—"

Fuller held up a hand. "I know what you're going to say. Now, I get the impression somebody downtown's trying to have a little fun with us right now, but it's a real case, and if these three are telling the truth, this guy will be exactly where Hanson was two days ago – only for real this time."

"Right." Booker sighed, and Penhall took the opening.

"Are both of us supposed to start failing tests right off, or what?"

"Booker gets to be the screw up. You get to try to get in with these guys, find out what their deal is. Get 'em talking, see if they've got anything against this teacher, other than what supposedly happened. And see if any of them says anything that suggests one way or the other."

"Captain, no kid who's really gotten pushed into sleeping with his teacher is going to willingly talk about it with his friends," Booker pointed out. "Especially…" he felt his face flush and gave up. Fuller was right. Someone was having a lot of fun at their expense.

His expense, his and Tom's.

But Fuller got his point regardless, and turned to Doug. "Keep that in mind, Penhall," he said pointedly. "Questions? No? Good. Now get out of here and let me get some work done."


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**Rosepetal - **I'm curious to know where you think this is going. Let me know :)

**Nina - **Glad you like the characterizations; those are always my greatest concern, _especially _when I'm writing slash fics.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"What did Fuller mean, that you had experience for the domestic abuse thing?"

Hanson looked up, mouth full of lo mein, and shrugged. This was the opening he'd been looking for, and he'd better take it before he lost his nerve. "From what I've heard, you've got more experience with it than I do." He regarded Dennis carefully, looking for any reaction, not sure what he hoped to see.

Booker's face paled a little and he stopped eating, setting the carton he was holding down on the coffee table. "What have you heard?" His voice was quieter than usual and Tom got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He set his own food down on the floor in front of him. "That you put a girl in the hospital, and that IAD covered it up."

Dennis blinked. "I… who told you that?"

Hanson hesitated. He didn't want to add fuel to the fire with Dennis and Doug, but at the same time he thought Booker had a right to know. "Penhall."

"I should've guessed." His voice was void of the animosity Tom had expected. "What Penhall doesn't know is that I was arrested and damn near lost my badge over that."

Tom tensed a bit. "So it's true?"

Dennis looked down at his hands. "Yeah." When he raised his head, his eyes pleaded with Tom to hear him out, if not understand. "I was drunk, she was drunker; she knew exactly what to say to get to me, and I lost it. Neighbor called the cops, she was taken to the hospital and I was shoved in the back of a squad car. When she… when she came around, they asked if she wanted to press charges. If she had, I'd be in prison."

"She didn't?"

He shook his head. "Just wanted to be as far away from me as possible. Can't say I blame her. Anyway, I was given a choice: counseling and anger management or I could turn in my badge." He gave Tom a self-deprecating smile. "You think I got a temper now, you should have seen me then."

"I'm not sure I'd have wanted to," Hanson said softly.

"Tom—"

"What, Dennis? You were arrested for beating up your girlfriend and, what? You didn't think that was something I should know about?"

"Tom—" he tried again, but Hanson interrupted him once more.

"What happened?"

"I just told you—"

"Yeah, well, be more specific."

"Just ask me whatever the hell it is you want to know, because I'm not a mind reader, Hanson, and there's obviously something specific you're looking for."

When Tom finally spoke, his voice was much lower than it had been. "What did you do to her?" He watched Dennis's expression change.

"I hit her – one punch, she fell into the wall, hit her head. Hairline fracture." He swallowed and Hanson could see pain – and regret – in his eyes. "She was lucky; I could've killed her. For a split second I thought I had. Cops showed up even before I had the chance to call an ambulance."

"Why?" Tom asked, a little afraid to hear his response. He'd never been scared of Dennis, but his answer might hold the potential to change that. "What… what did she do?"

"She started screaming at me about how useless I was and how it must have been because of me my dad ran out on mom and how he must have hated us and he'd been smart to take off on me and I deserved everything I got." Dennis's words came in a rush and it took Tom a moment to process them. When he finally managed to, however, everything made a little more sense.

Dennis was notoriously closed-mouthed about his father, and whenever someone brought him up, it was impossible to miss the pain in his eyes. It had taken an entire night and large quantities of bar food and alcohol for Hanson to even find out that Nick Booker had walked out on his family, and they hadn't talked about it since. For a while Tom had even avoided talking about his own father, not wanting to hurt his boyfriend. That had lasted until father's day this year, when Dennis had brought him up, giving Hanson permission, in a way, to talk about how much he missed his dad.

"Tom?"

"I wish you'd told me."

"I didn't know how you'd react. Plus, I learned my lesson. Stopped drinking so much, and the counseling sessions actually helped a little." Dennis's face flushed, then he frowned. "Tom, why did Penhall tell you this?"

Hanson shrugged evasively, but he could tell from the look on his lover's face that he wasn't going to let it go. "When I told him about us last night, he was… concerned."

"Concerned how?" Tom shrugged again and Dennis sighed. "I get it. Penhall thinks I might hurt you, too." He paused, then went on. "And from the looks of it, he's not the only one."

Tom shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, unsure of how to respond. He wasn't afraid of Dennis, and even after hearing this, he still felt – more or less – that Doug was worrying over nothing. Booker had a temper, but Hanson couldn't ever remember seeing him completely lose control of it. He was more than capable of taking care of himself, and he couldn't see Dennis ever trying to hurt him. Still… "I don't know," he said quietly.

He could see in his boyfriend's eyes how deeply the words cut him, but the other man only nodded. "Fair enough."

"Dennis…"

"It's okay." He stood abruptly. "I'm going to take a walk or something." Hanson nodded and wordlessly watched him go.

-------------------------

Dennis stared out over the dark river, listening to the water wash over the rocks. That conversation had gone anywhere but where he'd expected it to. "Damn it, Penhall."

The part that bothered him the most was that he couldn't really fault the man. If he'd been in Doug's position, he'd probably have done the same. Besides, he couldn't put all the blame on Penhall. Tom was right; he should have told him.

He heard soft footfalls behind him and automatically his hand went for his gun. Before he could do more than that, he heard Hanson's voice. "Hey."

Booker released the handle of his weapon, returning his hands to the railing in front of him. Without turning he asked simply, "How'd you find me?"

"Well, you didn't take your bike, and there aren't that many places within walking distance that you take off to like this." Tom came up behind him and when arms encircled him, Dennis didn't pull away. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." It was a lie and Dennis knew his lover could tell, but he didn't say anything and Booker was grateful.

"I love you."

"I know."

They stayed like that for a while, Dennis taking comfort in the warmth of Hanson's body against his back, and when the silence was broken it was by Tom. "You, ah, asked me a question in there, that I never got around to answering."

"Yeah, I did, didn't I?" Booker still didn't turn around and Tom had apparently grown bored of looking at the back of his boyfriend's head, because he insinuated himself in between Dennis and the railing.

"Want an answer?"

"If you want to give me one." Dennis let Hanson take his hand, following him to a grassy ledge a little closer to the water. They sat down, side by side, and for the first time Dennis was glad they weren't hiding anymore. Slowly, he put an arm around Tom and was a little too pleased when he didn't try to pull away.

"It was one of mine and Doug's cases, only not one we were assigned to. It sort of fell into our laps. My lap, really." He paused and in the dim light Dennis could see him toying with the cuff on his jacket. Wherever this was going, Tom was getting worked up already.

"We were undercover as the McQuaid brothers, and part of my cover was that I'd killed somebody. And this girl comes up to me and asks me if it's true, and I didn't think anything of it because I got asked a lot. So I said yeah, it was. _Then_ she asks me if I'd ever do it again." Booker could feel him tense and reached over with his free hand to capture one of Tom's.

"There were warning bells going off all over the place in my head, y'know, but I didn't know what was up with the girl, so I told her yeah, if I had to. Probably shouldn't have said that, but I needed to be in character." He paused. "Besides, it was the truth." Hanson leaned forward suddenly, resting his forearms on his knees. "So, well, she pretty much decides that I had to. She tried to hire me to kill her father."

Dennis let out a low whistle. "He was…"

"Yeah. He was molesting her, ever since her mother died. I figured it out – you could see it in her face – but she wouldn't admit it, so we couldn't do anything to get her out of the house and away from the bastard. So I went to Fuller, and he agreed to go along with me on arresting her for solicitation of murder." He shook his head. "Stupidest thing I've ever done."

"Doesn't sound it."

"It will." Hanson stopped speaking for a moment and Booker could hear him draw a shaky breath. "Should have passed it on downtown and left it alone."

"What happened?"

"We went to her house. Fuller waited outside, while I went in. Her little sister answered the door, and went to get her. I got her to get the kid out of the house, then… everything just kind of went to hell."

"The father?"

"Yeah. Sort of. I told her I was there to arrest her and she starts yelling for her father that I was trying to make her go with me. So he comes in, and I identify myself and tell him she's being arrested for soliciting his murder. But he starts yelling for me to get out and then he comes after me."

"I know how this story ends," Dennis said quietly. It had started out sounding familiar and the memory had only gotten stronger as Hanson went on. "The guys in Internal Affairs had a field day."

"Yeah, no kidding. I drew on him, tried everything I could think of to get him to back down but he didn't listen. It… it was self-defense. Not that that makes it any better."

Booker reached forward, pulling Tom back to him. Hanson turned into his shoulder and Dennis could feel him shake. He kissed him lightly on the forehead, his hand moving in small circles across his boyfriend's back. "The guy was a creep, Tom, and he deserved whatever he got."

"IAD didn't seem to think so."

"Well, they're a bunch of jackasses anyway."

Hanson raised his eyes and gave him a smirk. "Yeah, they are."

"Thanks a lot." Dennis glared at him for a minute, then gave up. "Tom," he began hesitantly, then trailed off.

"What?"

"How… how did you know what was going on?"

"Kid I went to school with." Dennis raised an eyebrow and Tom gave him a sad smile. "No, really. It wasn't me, just a friend of mine." He looked away again before continuing. "I'd known him since we were, I don't know, three or four I guess. Anyway, my dad gets a call over the radio one night, shots fired. He didn't expect it to be a thirteen-year-old holding the gun."

Booker opened his mouth to ask what had happened but Hanson went on without waiting for him. "My buddy, Aaron, he was just standing there in the middle of the living room. The gun was still in his hands, and my dad said he didn't look like he'd moved since he pulled the trigger." He paused and glanced at Dennis. "The DA came over for coffee one night and I heard them talking," he added, by way of explanation.

"Turns out, his father had been abusing him for years, and I guess he'd gotten bored, tried to move on to his sister." He got a faraway look in his eyes. "She was the cutest kid, always tagging along after him, wanting to play with all the boys. You know, the kind in movies who'll stand there on the sidewalk crying if her big brother or sister doesn't let her come. She was only eight when it happened." Tom blinked and Dennis unconsciously pulled him closer. "Last I knew she was practically living in some crackhouse down off of Route 11, turning tricks to pay for the drugs. Don't know if she's even still alive."

"Conveniently looking the other way?" Dennis asked.

"Oh, I've thought about tipping Vice off, don't quite have the heart."

Tom fell silent then and stayed quiet until Booker asked him, "What happened to your friend?"

"He wasn't charged or anything – he was defending himself and his sister. He never came back to school and I heard he ended up in a hospital somewhere after he OD'd on sleeping pills." Hanson shook his head and Dennis looked at him in concern.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just been a long day."

"School tomorrow."

Tom groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Just behave yourself."

Tom twisted around to look up at him. "Afraid of losing me to a high school girl?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Should I be?" Dennis countered, and Tom shook his head.

"You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

"Good." He leaned down a bit, intending just to give Hanson a quick kiss, but Tom snaked his hand up to rest on Dennis's neck, deepening and lengthening the kiss. As his boyfriend's tongue massaged his, Booker moaned softly. He ran a hand over Tom's chest, hear his lover's breath hitch. Then, abruptly, he ended the kiss.

As he pulled back, Hanson glared at him. "Damn it, Dennis."

"You started it, not me. And, ah, out though we may be, I'm not really thrilled at the prospect of facing Fuller after getting arrested for public indecency."

Tom looked glum, but even with just the moonlight, Booker could see how flushed his face was. "Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over so hot."

Dennis rose, then reached down and pulled Hanson to his feet. "So why don't we head back to your place?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**Geheimnis - **Thanks! I like writing Fuller, because I like his character; I like the combination of toughness and compassion he seems to have, and it strikes me that no matter how badly one of the JS team screws up, if they need help, he'll do everything he can to help them, and just generally be there if they need him. And you're right about Penhall - unfortunately, things are just going to get more strained in that department. Oh, and you missed a chapter :-P 

**Rosepetal - **Who says you're wrong? -adjusts her halo- Nah, that's not the point of the fic, but, well, there _will_ be some issues relating to that situation

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Tom rolled over, slapping at his alarm clock, then rolled back with the intent of putting his arm around Dennis and spending a few more minutes in his nice, warm bed. He opened his eyes when his arm hit an empty pillow, and he lifted his head just in time to be hit in the face with t-shirt. "It's my turn to play the screw-up, Tommy. You, on the other hand, get to glue yourself to a goodie-two-shoes. So get up."

"Don't call me that," Tom mumbled, throwing the shirt back at him and dragging a pillow over his head – only to have Dennis yank it away from him. Blinking against the light Booker had turned on, Hanson glared at his boyfriend for a minute before grabbing his collar and pulling him down for a kiss. "Now I'm up."

"I bet," Dennis muttered. "But that isn't what I meant."

"Jerk."

"Yes, but I'm a jerk who's showered, dressed, and made coffee."

"You need to stay over here more often," Tom replied, pushing himself up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Feeling Dennis's eyes on him, he glanced over.

"After last night, I'll agree with that." He paused. "Go take a shower."

"Yes, mom." Dennis shook his head and left the bedroom, not seeing when Tom stuck his tongue out at his back.

He showered quickly and by the time he was dressed, Dennis was only finishing breakfast. "Couldn't have made bacon and eggs?" he grumbled, eyeing Booker's cereal bowl.

"You got coffee. Consider yourself lucky."

Hanson shot him a withering glance as he headed for the counter. Fiddling with the tie on the bread, he finally freed a couple of slices and dropped them into the toaster. Looking toward the coffeemaker and the mug sitting in front of it, he grabbed Dennis's instead. He managed half a sip before Booker noticed. "Get your own!" He let him take the mug back and returned to his toast.

He'd just managed to get the slices out of the toaster and on to a plate when Dennis stood up. "Fuller's picking me up. The principal knows Penhall and I are going to be in the school, so we have to meet with him first thing."

Hanson made a face. Sometimes it was nice to have a principal or superintendent know what was going on – made it that much easier to get into the school, and kept them from getting their heads bitten off every time they got sent to the principal's office. But not having them know meant there was nobody on your back about it – except the department, at least. "Have fun."

Dennis shrugged. "Guess the guy's got a son on the Force."

"Even better," Tom said dryly. He watched Booker pick up his gun and frowned. "Dennis…?" For all Booker sometimes seemed more like a cop than the rest of the Jump Street crew, he hated going into a school armed – even more than the rest. It was something Hanson had trouble reconciling from time to time.

His boyfriend tucked it into his holster. "I got a bad feeling is all."

"Be careful."

"Always am." Dennis gave him a quick kiss and then headed out. "Get a move on," he called back over his shoulder.

As the door closed behind him, Hanson looked at his watched. "Whoops." He tossed his mostly uneaten breakfast on the counter and grabbed his bookbag before running out the door.

-------------------------

Dennis leaned back in his chair, twirling a pencil between his fingers as the Mr. Greene droned on in the front of the room. With a class as dull as his name, it was easy to see why so many kids were doing poorly. He had to admit, though, that the guy was good looking.

Still, Greene rubbed him the wrong way. Something about the way he looked at his male students. He ignored the girls for the most part, not apparently expecting much out of them, and not getting much in return. The first few questions the guy asked, mostly girls raised their hands, but he'd call on the one or two guys – or when he did call on a female student, he'd treat her as if she was wrong even when she wasn't. They were halfway through the period now, and the girls weren't bothering anymore.

"Can anyone tell me why the Supreme Court decided as it did in _Brown v. Board of Education_?"

Dennis grinned inwardly. Hoffs would kill to be here. She'd give the guy what-for ten ways til Tuesday. He slouched down as if hoping Greene wouldn't call on him, and his movement caught the man's eye, just as he knew it would.

"Mr. Stiers, how about you? Any ideas?"

"Uh…" He paused. "Um, due process?" The jerk had spent the first twenty minutes of class rambling on that topic – giving his students some information that Booker was almost positive was wrong, though he'd have to look to be sure. One of the girls next to him giggled, but Greene just nodded thoughtfully.

"Not exactly, but that's a very good guess."

_A good guess my ass, you moron_, he thought to himself as the guy turned to one of the kids who'd accused him of harassment. "Mr. Adler?"

"Um, because they determined that there could be no such thing as separate and equal, because the separation made the kids feel unequal?"

It was a decent enough answer, though not worthy of the beaming expression on Greene's face. Dennis almost choked when the guy literally clapped his hands. "Perfect."

_Is this clown for real?_ Booker folded his arms across his chest and determined to block him out for the rest of the period.

Luckily, he didn't have long to wait. As the bell rang, he shot out of his chair, determined to be the first one out. Greene was starting to give him a headache.

His plan, however, failed miserably. The creep grabbed his arm as he walked by. "Mr. Stiers, a moment please?"

Dennis tried to look disaffected. _Moving kinda fast, huh?_ "Yeah?"

"You just transferred in from Bayview, is that correct?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I don't believe they have a government class there, do they?"

"Not that I was in," he replied with a shrug, trying subtly to disengage himself from Greene. The man didn't seem to notice, but he did keep his grip.

"I could tell; you appear to be a bit behind."

Dennis glanced at the floor. "I'll catch up."

"I'm not so sure about that. I don't mean to offend you, Dennis, but my class moves rather quickly, and I'm afraid that unless you put some extra time in, you'll just fall further behind the rest of the students." He gave him a smile that made Booker's skin crawl.

"I'll be fine."

"Dennis," Greene stepped directly in front of him now that the room had emptied and rested his other hand on Dennis's shoulder, "I hate to see students fall behind; you seem to be a very bright young man."

_Yeah, I'm sure you noticed a lot in the whole _hour_ you've had me in your class._ "I'll be fine," he repeated, a bit more forcefully.

Greene didn't seem to get the message, but he removed his hands regardless. "I just want to offer my assistance. If you find yourself behind the rest of the class, I'd be more than happy to provide some extra help."

_I bet._ "Yeah, sure. Can I… go now?" Booker pointed toward the door.

"Of course." The man stepped back. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dennis."

"Yeah." Booker shrugged and left, feeling as if Greene's eyes were boring holes in his back. Outside the classroom, he leaned against the wall, letting out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. Staring at the floor, he scrubbed a hand over his face, then raised his head, locking eyes with Adler.

Kyle Adler was leaning against a locker, staring at him. "Hey," he said, taking a step forward.

The kid looked ready to bolt but managed to stay where he was. "Hey." Dennis waited for him to say something more, and finally he did. "He offer you extra help?"

"Yeah. Pretty quick to jump on the new kid, huh?"

"You have no idea," Kyle mumbled, and Booker raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak, and Adler shifted uncomfortably. "If you need a study partner or something, I wouldn't mind helping."

Dennis shrugged. "I don't know. Greene doesn't seem that bad. A little… overzealous, maybe. But he's not so bad."

He saw the color drain from Adler's face and the kid's eyes widen before he averted them toward the ground. "Well, whatever." When he started to walk away Dennis grabbed his arm, but was completely unprepared for the boy's reaction. Kyle spun around, right arm raised. Booker sidestepped, narrowly managing to catch the kid's fist before it went into a locker.

"Whoa! What the hell?"

Adler flushed. "I… sorry… I just…" he pulled away. "Sorry."

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." At that second the bell rang, and Kyle took it as his cue. "I gotta get to class."

Dennis watched him practically run down the hall before he disappeared down another corridor. "That… was interesting."

-------------------------

Judy watched Hanson sit down next to blonde, blue-eyed Joanne Crisal and frowned. Tom looked so ill-at-ease and he hadn't even spoken to the girl yet. She couldn't ignore the bad feeling in her stomach and wondered if it had anything to do with Booker.

Shaking her head, she returned her attention to her lunch, fighting with the milk carton on her tray. No way. She didn't know how long they'd been dating, but it was clear it had been a while, and to her knowledge Hanson hadn't ever let their relationship get in the way of doing his job. She doubted he'd start now.

"What's wrong with him?" Hoffs looked up at Ioki's harsh whisper. "If he's not careful he's going to blow it before it even starts."

"You noticed too, huh?" she asked. "I don't know. Something's wrong."

"No kidding," he muttered, setting his tray down. "You think…?"

"No."Judy spoke quickly, despite – ormaybe because of– the fact that she'd been entertaining the same thoughts only momentsearlier. "He wouldn't let his personal life interfere."

"Interfere in what?" Judy looked up to see Greg Marist, the guy who'd been dating Joanne's sister Leslie for the better part of the last year.

"Huh? Oh. She was talking about her cousin. His girlfriend was killed in a car accident – drunk driver – and his family is worried he's going to leave school."

"He go here?"

"No, he's a freshman at State," Judy replied, shooting a look at Harry to thank him for the save. It'd been a clever one, too – give them a chance to feel Marist out. "I'm Judy Douglas, by the way."

He managed a small smile. "Nice to meet you." He stood awkwardly for a second before asking if he could join them, and then was quiet again after he sat down.

In an effort to get him talking, Judy slapped herself in the forehead. "Oh, God, I didn't even think… are you okay? I mean, you just lost your girlfriend, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm… I'm okay. Thanks for asking." He looked away and she could see tears fill his eyes.

"I… I just made it worse, didn't I? I'm sorry." Judy reached out and covered his hand with hers. But he didn't look toward her and after a second she followed his gaze to where it rested on Tom and Joanne.

"Who's that?" Harry asked.

"That's Joanne. Her sister was my girlfriend."

"No, I know that. I mean, the guy with her."

"New kid, Tom something. Poor sap, getting in over his head already," he added bitterly, and Judy jerked her head around to meet Ioki's eyes.

He recovered half a second before she did. "What do you mean, 'in over his head'?"

"She—nothing. I gotta go."

As he stood, Hoffs shot another look at Ioki, not sure what she was hoping for, then jumped to her feet. "You didn't even eat your lunch!" He didn't turn, just made a beeline out of the cafeteria.

She sank back down to her chair and a minute later saw what she guessed was the reason Greg had beaten such a hasty retreat. Joanne and Hanson were headed in their direction.

"Judy? Judy Douglas?" It was all Hoffs could do not to make a face at the girl's sickly sweet voice. Maybe _that_ was why Hanson looked ready to follow Marist's lead. "You're the new cheerleader, right? What position do you normally take?"

"There are positions in cheerleading?" Tom asked, and Judy glared at him. He knew how sick she was of this, and was just rubbing it in. Oh, boy would he get his.

From the looks of it, he already was. "Who're you?" she asked in annoyance.

"This is Tom Henderson. He's new." Joanne looped her arm through his and Hanson looked ready to chew it off to escape her. Things weren't looking too hot for their case. "So, what position?"

"I was flyer when I was in middle school, but I ended up as a base at my last school, because there weren't enough guys on the squad."

"We can probably use you as a flyer," Joanne said with a very broad, very fake smile. "One of my friends is the captain. We're both thirds."

"Cool." She was saved from having to say anything more by the blare of a fire alarm. "Oh, are you _kidding_?"

"Hey, don't knock it," Harry protested. "At least we get to be late for our next class."

"Silver lining and all that," Hanson muttered. Judy watched him take advantage of the heavy flow of students heading for the door to disengage himself from Joanne. He stepped off to the side, letting the crowd push him along, and Hoffs and Ioki followed suit.

"Having fun?" she asked him softly, her lips close to his ear.

"Oh, yeah." He flashed her his most sarcastic smile. "She's my dream girl, really."

"Oh, now, see, I wouldn't have guessed. Without the dark hair, the muscles – the bad attitude…" she replied teasingly.

"I'll take Dennis's attitude over hers any day," he retorted, but she didn't miss the look of relief that crossed his face. He'd obviously expected a lot of flak about dating Booker – and he would probably be getting it, at least where Penhall was concerned. And maybe Ioki, too, given the expression he was wearing at the moment. Her partner looked extremely uncomfortable with the direction that their conversation had taken, and for both his and Hanson's sakes, she changed the subject.

Keeping her voice low, she redirected things back toward their case. "Watch yourself, okay?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "Did you see the guy who was sitting with Harry and me before you and the princess came over?"

Hanson nodded, stepping away from the crowd as they finally reached daylight. "Who is he?"

"The boyfriend," Ioki answered.

"And he does _not_ seem to like his late girlfriend's sister. He was staring at you guys, and when Harry asked who you were, he called you a…"

"Poor sap," her partner supplied a little too willingly.

Snickering, Judy finished her story. "And he said you were getting in over your head already. Then he bolted when you guys came toward us."

"He say why?" Hanson's face was serious, the discomfiting expression he'd been wearing earlier gone.

"No. He said 'she' and might have said more but her coming over freaked him out, so he shut up and took off."

"Keep working on him, see if he'll talk when she's not around."

Judy didn't respond; something – she wasn't sure what – had pulled her attention away from their conversation. "You smell that?"

"Huh?" Harry looked at her like she'd grown a second head, but Hanson nodded.

"Smoke. This isn't a drill." Both their eyes scanned the building, then Hoffs grabbed his arm.

"Over there, Hanson." She pointed past him toward the gym, where several classes worth of students were gathered, oblivious to the potential danger. "Harry, go let a teacher know or something," she directed as she and Tom jogged toward the students. "Hanson, the roof!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**daizia - **Well, if I work things right, the mystery will only go deeper. And Penhall's protectiveness is only going to intensify, and become problematic, on several fronts ;)

**RosePetal - **Thank you! When I started writing I tended to do just dialogue, but I've since started putting a lot of effort into the descriptive parts; now when there's only dialogue, it's for a reason :-P So I'm glad you appreciate the effort :-D And I'm very careful about how I write the characters, so I'm glad it's showing through.

**Nina - **Again, I'm glad you appreciate the way the characters are written; it's very difficult, I've found, to keep guys - especially 'tough guys' like Booker - in character, keep that edge, while still writing them as loving, especially with another guy. I've definitely managed to challenge myself here. I'm really glad you like it though :-D Oh, and the twists will keep coming; count on it

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Hanson broke into a run at Judy's exclamation, his eyes catching sight of flames lapping at the seams between the roof and walls, and hesitated for just a second trying to decide what to do. He didn't want to cause a panic, but… "Fire!" he shouted at the same time as Hoffs started yelling for people to get away from the building. They were met with confused looks at first, until one of the teachers finally reacted. Then everyone started running, and Tom grabbed Judy's arm, pulling her out of the path of the mob of students and back the way they'd come. Using his free hand, he pulled his shirt over his face. Most of the smoke was going up into the air, but he was breathing some of it in just the same.

They met up with Harry on the baseball diamond near third base just as fire trucks pulled up to the building, and he watched as a few stragglers scurried away from the building. It didn't look like anyone had been hurt in the mad rush, but when he faced Ioki and Hoffs, he realized she was rubbing her arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Probably have a bruise, but I would've had a lot worse if you hadn't pulled me out of there." She leaned over, hands on her upper thighs, coughing.

As Ioki rubbed her back lightly, Hanson eyed her with concern. "You sure?" he asked but turned away before she answered, overcome by a bout of coughing himself.

"I've had a lot worse, Tom. I'll be fine." As he turned back, she straightened up and glanced back toward the gym before wrapping her arms around herself. "Something tells me we won't be having cheerleading practice this afternoon."

"No, probably not," a female voice agreed. Hanson turned to see that Joanne had materialized behind them and was now standing with her arms crossed, looking at him with disapproval. "I lost you in the crowd."

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Kind of hard to hang on to people." He squared his shoulders back and gave Hoffs a warning glare as the foursome fell silent.

It ended up being Harry who spoke again next. "You cold, Judy?"

"A little," she admitted, rubbing her hands over her arms. "Jacket's still in my locker."

"Take mine." He shrugged out of it and for a moment she looked like she was going to turn him down, but she ended up nodding gratefully and letting him put it over her shoulders.

Tom heard Joanne clear her throat next to him and, stifling a sigh, turned toward her. "Oh, uh, are you cold, Joanne?" He stifled another cough.

"No, not really." She gave him a sweet smile and he felt like bashing his head against a wall. One of the many benefits of dating Dennis was not having to play these kinds of games. Idly, he wondered what Joanne would have to say if she knew he was gay, and the thought of her reaction brought a smile to his lips.

"What are you so happy about?" she asked, interrupting his train of thought.

"Yeah, what?" Hoffs asked pointedly, and Hanson glared.

"Just that this probably means we get to go home early. And," he snapped his fingers, "Darn. All my books are in my locker, and I doubt they'll allow us back inside today. Too bad. No homework tonight."

-------------------------

"Where do we stand?" Fuller asked, and Booker glanced over at Penhall, giving him the chance to go first.

"I got nothing. These guys are pretty tight-lipped. Went over to their table at lunch and asked if I could sit down, and one ignored me, one nodded, and the other just shrugged and stared at his mystery meat." He paused. "There's something about that guy Greene, though, that bothers me. Gives me the creeps." He mock shivered and Dennis rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

"Booker?"

"I think they're telling the truth. I actually talked to one of the kids today, Adler. Greene blindsided me at the end of class to offer his assistance to me in catching up to the rest of his students, and Adler was waiting outside when I finally escaped. He asked if he offered me help, and I said yeah, and then he told me he could help me out if I needed a study partner. I said Greene didn't seem so bad, and he went white as a sheet."

"What was he doing outside the room?"

Dennis shrugged. "I don't know. But he was just standing there, staring at Greene's door."

"Maybe he's got a crush?" Judy asked. "I mean, everybody has a crush on a teacher at some point. What's this guy look like?"

"Like he could get anybody he wanted if he weren't so interested in teenagers," Booker muttered.

"So, maybe he's got a crush, hit on the teacher, and the guy rebuffed him and now he's pissed."

"No high school boy is going to say he slept with a male teacher if he didn't," Dennis argued. "I'm serious, Captain. This kid looked scared. Plus, he was trying to get me not to take Greene up on his offer."

"Maybe he sees you as competition," Harry suggested.

"Rightfully so." Booker shot a look at Penhall, whose eyes widened when he realized he'd spoken aloud. But as none of the others seemed to have heard, Dennis didn't say anything.

"I doubt it," he muttered.

"Booker, you got anything else other than how the kid acted?"

"Yeah. Greene seems to take a serious interest in his male students, and ignores the female ones. I gave him an answer that couldn't have been farther off and he says that I'm close, but one of the girls answers a question dead-on and he comes up with twenty reasons she's wrong." He paused. "He stares at the boys, and when he stopped me after class he grabbed my arm, didn't let it go until I was leaving. And once the rest of the students were gone, he was standing in front of me, about here." He held his hands six inches or so from his chest, "and put his other hand on my shoulder." Dennis shook his head and tried to shake off the unease that had settled over him once again. "This guy, man… I'd bet my next paycheck these kids are telling the truth."

Fuller nodded. "Technically, him putting his hands on you would probably be enough to convince the boys upstairs to pick him up, but I want more than that. Keep playing standoffish, Booker, and be careful that you just go along with whatever he does, not come across as initiating anything. These cases are touchy like that; it's easy to cross the line without even realizing it." He turned to Penhall. "Keep trying to get in with the boys, and if that doesn't work at least keep an eye on Adler, even from a ways off if you have to. Something about him doesn't sit right with me."

"Got it, Captain," Penhall said, and Dennis just nodded as Fuller turned his attention to Ioki, Hoffs, and Hanson.

"Get anywhere in the four hours you had today?"

"Actually, yeah," Judy said. "Joanne Crisal has taken quite a liking to Hanson, and their relationship is progressing along beautifully already."

"Yeah. Remind me to thank you for that, Harry," Tom said with a scowl. "'Are you cold, Judy? Here, have my jacket.'"

"She was shivering!" Ioki protested.

"You knew full well—" Hanson started, until Fuller interrupted him. Dennis just looked back and forth between the two.

"Let's stick to the case, shall we? Now, what's going on?"

"What's going on is we're not going to have a case because I'm going to kill this girl!" Tom exclaimed. "I'd known her for an hour and she was already yelling at me for losing her in the crowd during the fire alarm!"

"She didn't yell," Judy interjected, and now that Dennis thought about it, her voice sounded a little hoarse. "She just… scolded."

"You too," Tom glared and Dennis frowned. His boyfriend didn't sound so hot, either. "The both of you are having way, way too much fun at my expense."

"Case. Assignment. Murder. Can we focus please?" Hanson quieted in the face of Fuller's aggravation. "Now, without bickering, where do we stand?"

"There's something about this girl, Coach, that rubs me the wrong way. And Hoffs said that the sister's boyfriend, uh, what was his name?" he asked, glancing toward Judy.

"Greg Marist."

"Yeah. Anyway, he seems to have something against Joanne." Tom turned away, coughing, then reached a hand over. Dennis rolled his eyes, then handed him his can of soda.

"Captain, when he saw Hanson with Joanne, he said Hanson was already getting in over his head. And then when he and the girl started walking toward us, he couldn't get away fast enough."

As Fuller nodded, Tom turned to Harry. "You said you thought maybe there was abuse involved?" When he nodded, Hanson shook his head. "There's no way. Nothing about this girl suggests anybody's ever so much as _looked_ at her the wrong way. What gave you that idea?"

"A lot of things I heard about the other girl. Classic signs – bruises, closed off, doesn't talk much, all of that."

"Could be Marist," Judy said, stifling a cough.

"I don't really think so. He's one of the ones who told me about it, and I don't see him calling attention to something like that if he was the one who did it."

"Harry, who does this guy think killed his girlfriend?" Dennis asked. "Has he said anything?"

Ioki shook his head. "He won't talk about it, clams up whenever someone brings it up."

"Slightly suspicious," Penhall commented, and Booker snickered inwardly when Hoffs shot him a look.

"Not to defend the guy or anything, but his girlfriend _did_ just get run down in his high school parking lot. Occasionally, people have reasons for not wanting to talk about someone's death that have nothing to do with them having murdered the person."

"Not to defend him or anything," Tom mumbled, and when Judy turned her glare on him, he held up a hand. "You deserve it. But seriously, I think you're right." He turned to Fuller. "And I know homicide thinks the father did it, Coach, but I think Joanne had something to do with it."

"You only talked to her for an hour," Ioki pointed out.

"I know. But she doesn't exactly act like she's grieving. And something about her attitude—" Tom broke off, raising a hand to cover his mouth as he started to cough. Dennis looked over at him, concerned, but didn't say anything.

Once he'd stopped, Fuller nodded. "Well, watch yourselves, all of you. And when I find out a cause for the fire today I'll let you know. Right now, it doesn't look like arson, though, so you're probably clear there."

"Good," Hoffs muttered. She yawned, only to swallow it as she started coughing. "Sorry."

The Captain frowned. "How close were you two to the fire?"

"We were outside, but pretty close," Judy admitted.

"You see anybody about smoke inhalation?"

Hanson shook his head. "Like she said, we were outside." He rubbed his hand over his throat. "Just a little dry."

"Right. The coughing doesn't stop, you both go to the doctor, got it?" Tom just nodded, draining Dennis's drink.

"We'll be fine, Captain," Judy said, yawning again. With that, she stood. "While I don't need a doctor, I _am_ tired. I'm going home, take a nice, hot bath." She started to walk away, waving over her shoulder at them, then stopped and came back. Leaning over the table she said in a loud whisper, "Better watch yourself, boy, before you lose that boyfriend of yours to a high school girl." Dennis felt his face burn, but took minor solace in the fact that he couldn't possibly be as red as Tom was.


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**A Note:** One, I'm going to ask if y'all would be interested in reading a prequel to this, showing how Hanson and Booker got together. You folks kinda got thrown into the middle of their relationship with this and I'm curious if you'd want to read how it started. I probably wouldn't write it until after I finish this fic, which still has quite a while to go. Anyway, let me know. Two, I'm going to shameless plug my Hoffs/Hanson short story 2 am (in my profile) :-P

**daizia - **I admit, part of my attention to detail is liking to make the characters suffer. Mwahahaha. :-P Real damage, huh? Would I do that? >whistles> Joanne, yeah, she's a little... I suppose 'strange' works. Glad you liked the little spat they had; I just have to throw that stuff in from time to time. After all, 21JS was a drama, but it had its comedic moments ;-)

**Nina - **Hopefully I'll get you more hooked as I go along :-P As for Joanne and Greene, well, you've got a few chapters to go on that, but a lot is written so updates should be regular. Oh, and I liked that last line as well. :-)

**Rosepetal - **I liked it too. I'm trying to make them seem like they really care about each other without making them seem girly :-P It's harder than I thought it would be >mutters> I'm having fun with Judy; someone's gotta be happy for Hanson and Booker.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

"How you really feeling, babe?"

Hanson looked up to see Dennis looking down at him. "Huh?"

"You're still coughing."

Tom moved aside to allow Booker space on the couch, then turned sideways and leaned back, resting his head on Dennis's leg. "I'm fine. Really. Throat hurts a little, but I really don't think it's worth the mountain of paperwork that a trip to the doctor…" he trailed off and glanced at his watch, "ER, at this hour, would cost me to run it through as a worker's comp claim, which is what my insurance would make me do."

"If you're sure." Dennis wasn't convinced.

"I am." Hanson raised the magazine he was reading so he could see it in his now reclining position, then gave up and lowered it, tossing it on the table and watching it slide off onto the floor. He returned his eyes to his boyfriend's face and saw the other man hesitate before looking down at him.

"Problem?"

"You look like you got one." Dennis quirked an eyebrow at him but didn't respond. "Out with it, _babe_." For some reason, Booker loved to use the term to refer to him, but when Hanson used it he usually earned himself a glare. Not so now. His lover just glanced away. Hanson pulled himself up and turned around, drawing his legs up onto the couch and folding them in front of him. "What gives, man?"

"What's the deal with this girl, Tom?"

"What girl?" Even as he asked, though, it occurred to him what Dennis was talking about. "That chick Joanne? Don't tell me what Hoffs said actually got to you?"

"Well… yeah, a little, I guess," Booker admitted, and Hanson thought he saw him flush. "I don't know; I know it's stupid. I just…"

"It's nothing, babe. She's a stuck-up blonde cheerleader – you know the type, thinks the whole damn world is at her beck and call. It's nothing."

"The way you were arguing—"

"It was 'cause Ioki and Jude put me on the spot with her – more Ioki than Jude, actually." He shook his head. "He's been actin' weird lately."

"You noticed it too, huh? You think…" Booker hesitated.

"Yeah." Tom reached for Dennis's beer, sitting on the corner of the table. He took a long sip and then handed it to his boyfriend, waiting as he finished it before he spoke again. "Hoffs seems okay, but Harry…"

"Penhall either," Dennis said quietly.

Hanson shot him a look. "He say something to you?"

"Nah." The look in his eyes told Tom he was lying, but he decided not to pursue it. "It's sort of the way he looks at me. Like with this guy Greene, it's like he thinks I'd be interested in whatever the creep's giving out."

"Doug doesn't think that, man."

"Don't bet on it, Tom. Penhall's hated me from day one, and now it's like he thinks that I'm the reason you're gay or something, like if I wasn't in the picture, everything'd be back to normal."

"Penhall's… he's weird, Dennis."

"Don't make excuses for him, Tom."

"I'm not making excuses for him. I'm just… I don't know. He's a good guy, but you're right, he never liked you and this is just throwing him for a trip. He'll come around."

"I'm not so sure." Booker shrugged uncomfortably. "I just don't think, of all cases, that it's a good idea for me and him to be working together."

"If it's really going to cause a problem, tell Fuller. He'll figure something out." He paused. "He'll understand. He said to talk to him if there was a problem."

"Oh, yeah. I'll just go in and say, 'Yeah, Captain, me and Penhall just don't play nice together. Can you make him stand in the corner?'" Dennis rolled his eyes. "You remember that case we were on, the football coach?"

Tom groaned. "How could I forget? Penhall was pissed about losing that; I don't think he'll ever respect Davis again."

"Did he ever?"

"Point."

"Anyway… it wasn't until the end, when he got hurt, he even saw what was going on. The whole time, it was like he was living a fantasy – and he tried more than once to kick my ass as part of it. He wouldn't listen to a word I said." He shrugged. "Feels like it's the same thing, same situation… only worse."

"Worse how?"

"It's like… today, when Harry said that about Adler maybe seeing me as competition?" He spat out the word and Tom was a little surprised at the venom in his voice. "Penhall said, 'Rightfully so' or something like that. Every time he so much as looks in my direction it's like he thinks I'm as bad as Greene."

"You know he doesn't."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do." Hanson sighed and tilted his head to the side before confessing, "I'm tired of talking about Penhall." He uncrossed his legs and moved to straddle Dennis, kneeling with one leg on each side of his lover's slim hips. "I'm tired of talking at all," he murmured into his ear.

"Mmm," was Booker's reply as he tilted his chin up, searching out Hanson's lips. "You taste like beer."

"So do you. But that's okay." Tom moved his hands from Dennis's shoulders down his chest to his waist, tugging at the bottom of his shirt, wanting to run his fingers over bare skin. Leaving the t-shirt on for the moment, he reveled just in the sound of his lover's slightly labored breathing for a second or two before growing impatient and deciding he wanted it off.

His boyfriend raised his arms, allowing Hanson to pull his shirt over his head. Dennis's hands returned to Tom's sides, while Tom's went back to Booker's chest. He leaned down, eyes closing, enjoying their current position because it put him up higher than Dennis for once, and captured his lover's lips with his own. The other man's mouth opened willingly and Tom's tongue warred with Booker's. For a split second he opened his eyes and saw Dennis staring back at him before the closed once more against the haze of intensity.

He heard his boyfriend moan as he slid his hands around his back, pressing his hips forward against his Dennis's. "God, Tom, you make a great distraction."

"Good," he whispered. He kissed down Booker's chin to his throat, ran his tongue along his lover's collarbone, feeling the man squirm underneath him, grinding their hips together. "You're not so bad yourself."

He felt Dennis's hands move to his chest and pulled back just a bit to allow him to unbutton his shirt. His boyfriend took his time, slowly moving down before slipping it off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Hanson leaned back more, circling his arms around Booker and clasping his hands behind his neck as Dennis ran first nimble fingers then warm, wet, tongue across his throat and down his chest, sucking and biting playfully.

Feeling a little overwhelmed as heat spread throughout his body, he unclasped his hand, kept one where it was for the sake of not falling backward – not that he thought Dennis would let him fall, but with his luck… – he reached a hand down to stroke his lover through his jeans. Booker's arms went around him, pulling him close, and their lips met once more before Dennis whispered, "As much as I like this couch, I think the bed would be more suitable."

"I concur. Wholeheartedly." He leaned back, climbing off and standing up, surprised at how wooden his legs felt. Only by the grace of his boyfriend's quick thinking did he not end up falling backward over the coffee table. "See the effect you have on me?"

Booker's eyes strayed from Tom's face to an area much lower on his body – and not his legs. "I do."

"Not what I meant."

"I know."

-------------------------

Tom paused in the doorway to his last class and groaned inwardly. The _one_ empty seat in the room just _had_ to be next to Joanne. Maybe God really didn't like gays and Joanne was His way of punishing him. He slid into the chair, opening a notebook and taking a deep breath before looking over at her with as flirtatious a smile as he could manage. Behind the girl, he could see Judy struggling not to laugh at him. "Hey."

"Hey." She bit her lip and smiled in return, making Hanson cringe inwardly. "I'm having a party tomorrow night. All the cheerleaders are going to be there, and most of the football team too. My folks are going out of town; the party's pretty much going to last all weekend." She paused. "We have an indoor pool, so bring your bathing suit." Then she licked her lips. "Or don't."

Behind her, Tom saw Hoffs choke and stifled a glare. She was _dead_ the second they got back to the chapel. He was going to kill her, and Ioki too, and enjoy it. Immensely. What the hell had he done to them to deserve this?

"Ms. Douglas, do you need a drink?" their – Hanson glanced at his schedule – calculus teacher asked. Funny, he didn't remember sitting through calculus yesterday; maybe his mind had blocked it out.

As Judy told the instructor she was fine, Tom decided he wouldn't turn one down, though what he had in mind probably wasn't what the teacher had been thinking of. He wasn't sure what was worse – Joanne or calculus. The combination had to be fatal. He slouched down in his chair, kept his eyes fixed on the board, and didn't look at anyone for the rest of the class, spending it instead trying to figure out how not to lose his mind over the course of this party.

Two days, trapped in a house with Joanne Crisal. If he survived it, chances were by the end of the weekend, he'd at least have an idea what was going on – if not have solved it. She knew something about her sister's death, he was positive. He just needed to convince Ioki, get him to work on Greg and find out what the deal was with Joanne.

Of course, in order to do that, he needed to get Ioki actually talking to him. The man hadn't said two words to him outside of work since he and Booker had come out, and it was starting to get to him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, belatedly realizing that class was over and Joanne was staring at him. "Hey, there, Tommy," she said with a grin. "Come on, school's over. I thought we could grab something to eat, maybe go back to my place?" As he rose, she raised her eyebrows suggestively.

Hanson stalled as they left the classroom. "I, uh, I don't know. I mean, I'm kind of behind in everything, coming into school so late; I've got a lot of work to do to catch up." He stopped by his locker, opening it, and looked over at her.

Before he could do anything, she'd pressed him up against the locker, her lips on his. His eyes went wide and, too stunned to pull away at first, they fluttered closed and he returned the kiss. Instinctively, his arm circled her waist and he tilted his head down toward hers. Then abruptly, he broke it off and, for the sake of keeping his cover and his composure intact, he rested his forehead against hers. "I'll see you tomorrow." He planted one more very chaste kiss on her lips, then turned back to his locker, grabbed the last book he needed, then closed it and walked away.

-------------------------

"How was school?"

Dennis glanced up, frowning at the inflection in Hanson's voice. "It was okay."

"Greene do anything else?"

"He didn't _do_ anything. Wouldn't stop staring at me, though; yesterday, I felt like he was trying to drill through me with his eyes, and today, every time I looked up during the quiz he was either looking at me or at Adler."

"You're really sure he screwed around with Adler?"

"Yeah." He paused. "There's no way that whole 'competition' angle Harry came up with is right. If this kid wanted Greene, he'd have him, hands down. I've seen that look before, man."

Tom raised an eyebrow as he bit into a piece of garlic bread. "Yeah? Where?"

Dennis shrugged uncomfortably. "Just, you know…" He trailed off and shook his head, trying to clear it. "You ever caught somebody staring at you in a bar or something, and ended up going home with them that night?"

Hanson's eyes narrowed but, after a moment, he grinned. "Yeah. You."

Booker frowned, then shrugged again. "Well, anyway, you know what I'm talking about."

His boyfriend set his food down and watched him for a second. "This guy really freaks you out, huh?"

At his words, Dennis felt a little chill run down his spine. He took a sip from his beer bottle, put it down, then took another drink and set it down once more before he answered. "Yeah. I don't know what it is." Well, it wasn't completely a lie.

"You think he's gonna try something with you?"

"Yeah." Dennis looked down, drumming his fingers over the table. "Something about the whole thing bothers me, and I don't know why." Another half-truth. "How far do you think I need to let him go before I arrest him?"

He could see the concern in Tom's eyes. "You heard Fuller; even the guy putting his hands on you is probably enough. If this is really bothering you, and you're positive this kid is on the level, tell Coach that. He'll pull you out; it didn't look like he was too thrilled having you in there in the first place."

"Penhall'd love that."

"Screw Penhall."

"No thanks." Booker made a face. "I can handle it."

Hanson reached across the table, and Dennis let him take his hand. "There something you aren't telling me?"

He looked toward the TV, toward his food, toward the ceiling – anywhere but at his boyfriend – for a long moment while he tried to decide how to answer. "Yeah."

"Something about the case?"

"Sorta. Not really."

"You sure you can handle it?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me sometime?"

"Yeah."

"Want to jump off a bridge?"

"Ye—huh?"

"Just checking if you were listening." Hanson grinned at him, and Dennis squeezed his hand lightly, using his other to continue eating.

After a few minutes of fairly comfortable silence, Booker remembered that something had seemed strange when Tom asked him about his day. "How's _your_ case?"

Bingo. Tom got a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. "It… uh, it looks like I'm not going to be home Friday or Saturday night. _Joanne_," the tone in his voice made his distaste for the girl obvious, "is having a party."

"All weekend?"

"All weekend."

"They didn't have parties like that when I was in high school."

"Me either."

"That's not all that's bothering you, is it, Tommy?"

That look was back on his boyfriend's face. "Don't call me that!"

Dennis started; he knew Tom hated the nickname – it was why he used it. But he didn't usually react like that. "What's wrong?"

"I… Joanne kissed me."

"So?" Not that the idea of his lover kissing somebody else thrilled him, but sometimes it was part of the job. Hanson was in there to play up to the girl, and sometimes things went beyond the purely plutonic stage. It didn't make sense for Tom to be getting this worked up over it.

"So…" Tom released him and stood up, running his now-free hand through his hair. "Let's just say she's made her… intentions clear."

"What _intentions_?"

"She told me her parents have an indoor pool, and to bring my swimsuit – or don't. Then, after class, she kissed me, and it wasn't exactly a peck on the cheek."

"What are you freaking out about? There's no way you haven't had a girl come onto you on the job before."

"Not like that! I'm gonna be at her house for two days, Dennis; how do I…?"

"Avoid sleeping with her?" Booker snickered. "You got it easy; you got a whole day to come up with an excuse. It could be worse; she could've sprung it on you tomorrow night after you had a couple beers."

Hanson glared at him, and for a moment he felt kind of bad. "You aren't helping."

"What do you want me to do? It's part of the job; I don't know why you're so on edge." He shrugged. "Tell her you're Catholic and you don't believe in sex before marriage. Guarantee you she'll spend the entire weekend trying to change your mind. In the meantime, you see what you can get out of her."

Tom frowned at him. "And if it doesn't work?"

"It will."

"You know, being too sure of yourself is a good way to get yourself killed."

"You're just mad at me because I thought of a way out and you couldn't." Hanson just crossed his arms and glared, which Dennis knew meant he was right.


	9. Chapter 9

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**Just A Fan - **There's nothing wrong with reading something when you haven't seen the show; fans have been made that way :-P Glad to know you like it.

**RosePetal - **That's one vote for the prequel ;) Glad you liked the scene with the boys alone; I had fun writing it. I like showing them as a couple without all the stress and angst, just as much as with it. As for the party, well... >devil face> That's going to be fun. No, to tell the truth, I don't have much of that planned yet. There are other things to come first. And you can't kill her, because then she wouldn't be able to... >slaps hand over her mouth>

**daizia - **Do you know how excited it makes me to see such a long review:-D I was just telling my boyfriend today that while Booker and Hanson are my favorite characters, I absolutely love eps where Doug and Hanson are together, because they, as you said, play off each other beautifully. And that's two votes for the prequel. Yes, they don't like each other. And, trust me, what I have planned is not a "You're gay? Me too! Let's go to bed." type of thing. ;)  
Glad you like the interaction between the boys; it's my biggest concern with this fic, as I think I've said, so it means a lot to me that you like it. I'm just trying to make it real, and my take on it is generally, well, this is how guys act with the women they love, why would it be so different if the person they loved was a guy? As for Dennis seeming bothered by the whole thing with Greene, well, all I can say at this point is that you've got a good eye. >whistles> Regarding Hanson and the Joanne/party situation... well, as I said to RosePetal, I don't have that whole thing planned out yet. But what I can say regarding the scene in the hallway is that a guy may react to certain stimuli regardless of the gender of the stimulator :-P And I'm happy to be of service.

**Nina - **Three votes! From all my regular readers. Guess now I have to, huh? What types of hints are you picking up on? I'm curious, because I'd like to address them and I'm afraid I might miss things. Please let me know :)  
Yes, something's not quite right about Joanne, or Greene for that matter. And it's only going to get worse...

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Dennis kept his eyes fixed carefully on his desk as Greene walked by, placing his quiz face down. After the man had moved on, he turned it over slowly. Circled in red ink at the top were the letter 'F' and the words 'See me'.

He only half-listened to the lecture, trying to get his head on straight; his conversation with Hanson the night before had only served to shake him up more than was probably healthy.

Booker looked up, only to find Greene staring back at him, and felt his face flush. _Get a grip! You're acting like Hanson!_ His boyfriend's antics the night before had amused him, though he was glad Tom had felt okay bringing it up with him.

He sighed inwardly and tried to focus on the front of the room. The truth was, Greene made his skin crawl and it was only his pride that kept him from taking Tom's advice: just filing a report with Fuller and asking to be pulled out. That, and he wanted to take this guy down personally.

But still, being around this creep made him sick to his stomach, and if he were going to be able to deal with him without blowing the case, he needed to relax. He took a few deep breaths, turned to the page in the textbook that they were on, and proceeded to tune out everything.

The next time he looked up, it was two minutes before the bell. He closed the book, rested his notebook on top, and pocketed his pen. As the class was dismissed, he hung back, then positioned himself with the desk in between him and Greene; if the guy even touched him now, it was because he specifically meant to.

To his surprise, the teacher just leaned against the desk, arms folded in front of him. "Dennis, I have to admit, I'm concerned. If you'd really like to try to catch up on your own, I can't force you into anything. But you've come in halfway through the year and there's a lot of material you've missed. Quite frankly, I don't know why you were even placed in my course." He shook his head. "It's nothing against you; you just don't have the sort of background to come into a class like this right in the middle."

_If you only knew._ "I'll be fine."

Greene sighed. "Dennis, did you do the reading for yesterday's quiz?"

He hadn't needed to; he could probably teach it as well as Greene. "Yeah."

"That causes me even greater concern. That was all material you should have gotten out of the chapter; there really wasn't anything you needed the rest of the text for. And yet, you still did poorly. I don't want to have to fail you; you seem like a very bright young man."

Dennis frowned; in class, Greene had seemed the same as the last few days. Now, though, he felt like a different person. "What, uh, what do you suggest?"

"Give me a few days after school next week; I should be able to at least teach you the basics, give you enough background at least to pass." He smiled. "I'd start tonight, but I already have plans."

It sounded like the guy was trying to schedule a date instead of a tutoring session – which he probably was. "Uh, sure. Monday, after school?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow."

Booker finally moved in front of the desk – short of climbing over things, which, granted, he wasn't entirely averse to, the only way to the door was by Greene – and at the moment, the man was back to himself again. He caught Dennis's arm and this time ran a hand up his shoulder; it was all he could do not to yank his arm away and run. "We'll get you all straightened out," he said, releasing him. Booker couldn't escape fast enough.

Out in the hall, Dennis leaned against the lockers and drew a shaky breath. When he looked up, he was surprised to see Adler standing across from him once again. "Reconsider," the kid said quietly, then started to walk away.

Regaining his bearings, Booker caught up to him but didn't touch him; he'd nearly ended up with a black eye once this week, and wasn't keen to take the chance a second time. "Why? What's your problem with him?"

"You tell me; you don't look like you're jumping for joy."

"I failed a quiz; my mother's gonna kill me."

"Yeah, sure. Well, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to know you're getting extra help."

Before he realized what he was doing, Dennis had Kyle pinned against the locker. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Adler stared back at him, face frozen in frightened surprise. "Let... let me go," he stammered.

Dennis's eyes widened and he stepped back instantly, holding his hands up in a gesture of submission. "I'm sorry. I just… just kinda lost it."

The kid straightened out his shirt collar and shrugged. "I kinda deserved it, taking a swing at you the other day."

Booker smirked. "Guess we can call it even." He paused, casting a glance back over his shoulder toward Greene's classroom. "What's the deal?"

Kyle shrugged. "Just… reconsider, okay, man? Greene's a real dirtbag. If you need help, I've got time. Just… don't let him help you."

"Why?"

"Think about it. You're a very bright young man." Adler threw Greene's words at him. "I mean it, man, don't let that guy touch you."

"Who said anything about him touching me?"

The kid's face went white – again. "I… I gotta go." With that, the conversation ended just like it had two days ago, with Adler taking off down the hall and Dennis just standing there, watching him go.

-------------------------

Doug looked up when Booker sat down across from him. "How was class?"

"That guy touches me again, I'm gonna break his hand."

Penhall fought the urge to roll his eyes. "You know how close to losing it you look right now? Chill out, or you're gonna blow this case."

"I could blow my cover right now and recommend they pick Greene up."

"I wouldn't."

Dennis's jaw literally dropped and Doug was surprised to see the pained look in his eyes. "What? Why?"

"These guys are full of it. I talked to one of 'em in physics this morning and another in English. Greene flunked them both on their last exams – and Adler too. They're just pissed."

Booker shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. Adler keeps offering to help me out, and he knows his stuff, well enough not to fail at least." He paused. "Besides, didn't it occur to you that maybe they're not mad because he flunked them, but because of what he pulled after they failed – if they really did at all?"

"I've seen kids pissed at teachers before," Doug retorted, wondering idly why the other man was getting so worked up over this case. "Get a grip; obviously, the guys at HQ didn't completely believe these kids' stories, or they wouldn't have sent us in here."

"Obviously, they weren't convinced they were lying, either, or they wouldn't have sent us in here."

Doug rolled his eyes. "I don't know what your problem is, but you need to cool it before you ruin this guy's life."

"I know what your problem is," Dennis muttered. "_Problems_, actually."

"Oh really, well, why don't you inform me? Because I wasn't aware I had a problem," Doug shot back.

"You're too damn scared of making the same mistake you made over in major crimes, so you'd rather let this guy walk. Not to mention, you're too pissed about me and Tom to listen to a God damn word I say." Booker scowled at him. "You have a problem with me, take it up with me; don't blow the case over it and don't screw with Tom. He doesn't deserve it."

Penhall started. "You think that's what this is about? You're crazy. I'm doing my job, and I've seen firsthand what happens when you bust a guy for something like this and you're wrong."

"And I'm telling you I'm not wrong; these guys are telling the truth."

"And I'm telling you, I think you are wrong. These kids are pissed off and they figure this is a good way to get back at Greene. The guy's a creep, but he didn't do anything wrong, and I'm not going to let you screw up his _life_."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know better than you."

Booker's demeanor changed in a flat second. "No, you don't." With that he got up and walked away. Doug watched him dump his uneaten lunch in the trash before he left the cafeteria.

-------------------------

Dennis hadn't even closed the door to his apartment before he flung the backpack in his hand across the room. It hit the TV stand, knocking a few videos over, but otherwise did no damage. Too bad.

He glanced at the clock. Three thirty wasn't too early to drink, was it? He really ought to go to the Chapel; not showing up would just give Penhall another reason to breathe down his neck. He picked up the phone, ignoring the blinking light on the answering machine, and dialed Fuller's desk. When the Captain didn't answer, he tried Hanson's. His boyfriend picked up on the first ring. "This is Tom."

"Hey."

"Hey… where are you?" He could picture the concerned, 'you're-gonna-be-in-trouble' expression on the other man's face. "Doug's about to go through the roof."

"Doug can shove it." Dennis paused. "Look, tell him I don't feel that hot and I'll catch up with him tomorrow."

"You okay?"

"I will be. But if I have to see him right now, I'll hit him, and I don't feel like dealing with him or Fuller after that. So… tell him I'll see him tomorrow."

"Dennis—"

"Come by my place when you get out, will you?"

"Dennis—"

"Bye, Tom." He hung up before he could say anything more, then headed for the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Popping the top off, he returned to the phone and pressed the message button.

"_Dennis, it's mom."_ Booker blinked and turned the volume up, wondering if someone had died. _"I was… I was wondering if maybe you'd like to have dinner. I know this is kind of out of the blue, but…"_ His mother's voice trailed off. _"Give me a call, sweetheart; maybe even tonight, we could go out, or you could come over."_ She paused. _"I love you, Dennis."_

As the tape clicked off, he stared at the phone and it occurred to him that this might be a chance to tell her about him and Tom. He knew it drove his boyfriend crazy at times that even his family didn't know he was gay, though he never gave him a hard time about it.

He picked up the phone and dialed her number slowly, half of him hoping she wouldn't answer, but he heard her voice after a few seconds. _"Hello?"_

"Hey, mom, it's me. I, uh, got your message."

She was quiet for a moment. _"Dennis, are you okay? You don't sound very good."_

"Just, uh, just tired, and I got a case that's stressing me out." It was mostly true; he was exhausted, and working with Penhall on this assignment had him ready to shoot himself. That wasn't all, of course, and he had a feeling she could tell, but she didn't say anything. He fiddled with the phone cord, wondering if this was really a good idea. "I, uh, I can make it – for dinner, I mean."

"_Where do you want to go?"_ He could almost hear her smile.

"Um, I was thinking I could just come over there; we could order in, doesn't have to be anything fancy." The last thing he needed was to come out to his mother in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Dennis took a deep breath. "Got something I wanted to ask you, though."

"_Anything."_

"Do you think… do you think I could bring someone? There's… something I want to talk to you about." Guarantee she'd have herself convinced within the hour that he was getting engaged, but he couldn't just spring a guest on her, and he knew he wouldn't do this without Tom.

She hesitated for just a second before replying. _"Yes, of course. Nothing's wrong, is it, Dennis?"_

_A lot of things are wrong._ "No, just something I need to talk to you about, that's all." As if that wasn't exactly what he'd said two minutes ago.

"_All right. Seven o'clock okay?"_

"Yeah, it's fine."

"_I love you, Dennis."_

"Love you too, mom."

He hung up the phone and remained still, staring at it for a long while after. Part of him was glad he'd just trapped himself like that – even though he was wary of what his mother might say, he wanted her to know that he'd found someone he cared about as much as Tom.

Not that he had a clue what he'd do if she reacted the way he expected her to. He couldn't imagine any mother being pleased to find out her only son was gay.

Of course, Margaret, Tom's mother, had been happy for them, which had been the only thing keeping him from having a heart attack the night Tom had told her about their relationship. Still, she'd had some time to adjust to the idea that her son was interested in men.

Sighing, he picked up the phone and once more dialed his boyfriend's number. It took three rings this time before Tom picked up. "Hanson."

"You, uh, didn't have anything in mind for dinner, did you?"

"No. Why?" There was suspicion in his lover's voice. "What'd you do?"

"My mom called."

Tom was silent for a moment. "Your mom. Are we having dinner with your mom?"

"Yes."

"She know I'm coming?"

"Sort of. She knows someone's coming. I didn't tell her who."

"Or the mystery guest's gender or relationship with you, I take it."

"I couldn't tell her over the phone, babe."

He went quiet again. "I know. Just… are you sure you're ready for this?"

"No."

"Oh, well, that's good."

"Tom—"

"Relax. I understand. What time?"

"Meeting her at her place at seven."

"I'll be at your apartment by six; I just have to go home and change."

"Okay." Dennis paused. "Penhall pissed?"

"Penhall's… yeah, he's pissed. He went off to Fuller for ten minutes about how you're gonna blow the case."

"Fuller believe him?"

"Nah. Told him to go cool out before he assigns you two as partners permanently."

"I'd resign."

"I know. Look, I'll see you in a couple hours. I gotta go kill Ioki before he makes one more crack about Joanne."

"Bye."

"Bye."


	10. Chapter 10

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**Chloe - **Thanks! Always glad to have another reader :-D Characterization is a huge thing for me, and I have a friend who's reading this on my site and I'm constantly bugging her for help. As for Hanson angst, oh, there'll be some. There'll just be a lot of angst in general. :-P AndI'll see about the tears.

**Rosepetal - **Sure, feel free to kill her afterward - if, say, Dennis doesn't get to her first ;)

**daizia - **I like making people laugh :-P I'm glad to know you've got that much of a feel for my style by now :-D _And_ I'm glad you like how I show the lover boys ;) Yes, the Dennis - Greene situation should be interesting, and I'm hoping that what happens with Hanson and Joanne will surprise you all. Soo... Mixed signals? How so? Yes, Doug's concern is valid, and Dennis, you'll see (eventually) doesn't deny that; what's bothering him about Penhall's handling of the situation has another point entirely. As for dinner, well... you'll see >devil>

**Just a fan - **>blushes> Thanks! I like it too. I keep going back and rereading it as I'm writing ;) Hope you like how the dinner goes, and as for the K,I,S,S,I,N,G... well, that might wait a bit... >hides>

**Nina - **You might have, a time or two :-) Regarding Dennis and his mom, well, you're going to find out soon enough ;) Regarding the prequel, those are both good points I'll have to keep in mind. Does it make sense to you, the idea of Booker being more experienced? And feel free to give me suggestions; I love getting ideas for stuff to add into my fics.

**

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**Chapter 10**

Tom pulled his Mustang to a stop in front of Joyce's house and, as he turned off the car and pulled the key out of the ignition, he looked over at Dennis. "You ready?"

Even as the other man opened the door and climbed out he replied simply, "No."

They stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes, and twice Booker turned around and looked back toward the car, as if he was contemplating just heading back home, and both times Hanson took his hand and moved to stand in front of him, turning him slightly to face the house once more. The second time, after casting a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he leaned up and gave him a quick kiss. "I love you; it'll be all right."

"No it won't."

"Yes it will."

"How did you tell your mom?"

"We've had this conversation before, and you're stalling."

"I know, and yes, I am. But humor me."

"I just told her. We ate dinner, then went to the living room and had coffee. She asked me if I was dating anyone, and I said yes. She asked her name, and I said, 'Mark.' She figured it out pretty quickly."

"Tell me again how she reacted."

Tom shook his head, but acquiesced. It wasn't that he couldn't understand his boyfriend's anxiety; it was just that he was starting to drive him crazy. "She was quiet for a long time. Then she got up and left the room. About ten minutes later she came back, and she told me she thought I should leave. She said she wasn't angry, just kind of shocked, and needed some time to think. Then she said she'd call me, and she did, the next day." He moved to take his lover's hand. "Dennis, your mom will understand. Maybe tonight, maybe not. But she will, eventually. So don't make yourself crazy over this, or you're just going to make it harder than it has to be."

"I…" Dennis sighed. "You're right."

"Yes, I am. I'm glad you've realized that."

"You're gonna get it."

"Do whatever you want to me, as long as you let me get my revenge on Hoffs and Ioki first."

"Deal."

As they walked up to the house, they kept enough distance between them as to seem like friends – but nothing more. Right as Dennis knocked, Tom gave his hand a gentle squeeze, releasing it when Joyce opened the door. "Hey, mom." Hanson hung back as Booker gave her a slightly awkward hug, then turned to face him. "Mom, you know Tom, right?"

"Officer Hanson, correct?" When Tom nodded, she held out a hand and he shook it, forcing a smile in spite of the very surprised expression on her face. She must have picked up on his discomfort because, as they stepped inside, she turned to him and said, "I'm sorry; from the way Dennis sounded on the phone I expected someone a bit, ah," she broke off, and Tom grinned.

"A little more female?" This was going to be interesting.

She hesitated, then sighed, offering him a sheepish smile that reminded him of his boyfriend. "Well, yes. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"Nah, it's my fault, mom." Tom waited until Dennis shrugged out of his coat, then did the same. "You cooked, didn't you?" There was amused disapproval in his voice.

"Of course I did."

"You didn't have to."

She frowned at him and shook her head. "Dennis, you've eaten here once in the last year; I wanted to. Now come on, dinner should be just about done. I made your favorite."

-------------------------

"That was great." Booker pushed aside his plate and slid his chair back from the table.

"Maybe I'll get you over here more often then," she replied with a smile. "Coffee? And I have some cookies. They're from the store; I didn't have time to bake."

Dennis groaned. "Mom, I'm not going to be able to eat for a week as it is. Coffee sounds good, though." He rose slowly and picked up his dish, then Hanson's, only to have her take them out of his hands as she turned to his boyfriend.

"Would you like some, Tom?"

"Uh, yes, thanks."

"Why don't you two go into the living room, and I'll be in, in just a second."

_Coffee. Living room._ As they went to sit down on the couch, Dennis leaned over toward Tom. He brushed his lips against his lover's cheek and asked, "Tell me again how things went with your mom?"

"Shut up."

He straightened up when his mother came in, tray in hand with coffee cups and the cookies he doubted any of them would touch. Even if he had an appetite left, it'd be long gone after this conversation. She set everything down, then placed mugs in front of each of them, then took her own and sat down in a recliner. "So, Dennis, what did you want to talk about?"

His fingers tightened around the cup in his hand and he took a long drink, ignoring the fact that it was still too hot for that to really be a good idea; the pain was worth it for the few seconds it bought him. "Mom, I, uh, what you thought—"

She smiled and he closed his eyes, knowing she was missing the point and not entirely caring. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, Dennis. You're only twenty-two, after all; I'm certainly not trying to push you."

"No, mom, it's fine. It's just… you weren't… you weren't really wrong."

His mother blinked and he his breath came in short, rapid bursts. He wasn't ready for this; he just wasn't and from the feel of Tom's hand on his arm, he knew that his boyfriend could tell.

"Dennis?" He could see in her eyes that it was starting to sink in.

"I… Tom came with me because…" he looked down, taking another breath, and covered Hanson's hand with his own. "Because he's… we… I love him."

That wasn't the way he'd intended it to come out, but a glance at Tom told him his lover wasn't exactly disappointed by his choice of words.

His mother, on the other hand… "Dennis, are you saying that you – and Tom – are… together? A… a couple?"

"Yeah. That's… that's what I'm saying." He shifted, clasping hands with his boyfriend. "I'm gay, mom."

It was several minutes before anyone spoke again, and Booker wasn't quite sure what to make of his mother's words. "Dennis, I don't really know what to say to you. I hadn't… I certainly hadn't expected this, though I suppose I ought to have, especially you showing up here with… with Tom like this."

"Mom—"

"Let me finish." She held up a hand, keeping the other in her lap. "I'm disappointed, Dennis; I won't pretend that I'm not. I – your father and I—"

"Don't talk about dad."

She frowned at him. "I know how you feel, but he's still your father."

"I haven't seen him for nine years, mom; I don't _care_ what he would think. You want to tell me you're disappointed, tell me. But _don't_ bring him into this."

"Maybe we should go," Tom said quietly.

Dennis stood at his words, thankful for the interruption and the chance to regain control of his emotions. "Maybe we should." But before Hanson could even get to his feet, his mother had risen as well.

"No; you don't need to go. Just, Dennis, I wasn't expecting this; you need to give me time, a chance to understand."

"Then I'll give you time." He swallowed hard. "Dinner was great, mom." He sidestepped around her, heading for the door, and as he pulled his coat off the hook, he heard Tom murmur an apology for the situation before following suit.

-------------------------

"That went well," Dennis muttered sarcastically, slamming his apartment door open and jerking his coat off. He threw it with a little too much force into the couch, then stalked toward the kitchen. Tom heard glass crack against the counter and sighed. He shrugged out of his own jacket and hung it up, pausing to pick up Booker's as well, then followed him. He turned the corner in time to see him down a shot and return for another. Taking a couple quick steps forward, he covered the mouth of the glass with his hand.

"Don't."

"Shove off, Hanson."

"Can it, _Booker_. Look, I know you're upset, but getting trashed right now isn't going to do a damned thing." He slowly pulled the glass away, then reached for the bottle as Dennis raised it to his lips. "Stop."

"Tom—"

"Hey, at least your mother didn't throw us out like mine did. She called me by my name, which is a plus – my mother wouldn't even talk to Mark for the first month she knew about us. And if you're upset about her bringing up your dad—"

"I am," Dennis bit out.

Hanson raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?" That conversation had done little more than confuse the hell out of him.

"He has no right to judge me at all, everything he put us through."

"He wasn't."

"She—"

"Yeah. Exactly. _She_ _mentioned_ your dad; she was probably going to say something about how they always wanted grandkids, and you jumped down her throat. Babe, he _is_ still your father, and he was her husband for a long time. You can't blame her if she mentions him once in a while." He worked the bottle out of Dennis's hand and set it down. "_Why_ are you so upset?"

Booker shook his head. "It's just… this was bad timing; I've got enough other shit to deal with. I didn't want to do this at all, never mind now."

"You want to talk about it?" He'd had a feeling that Joyce had just been the unfortunate one stuck receiving the brunt of his boyfriend's frustration. Something had been bothering Dennis since the day he'd started his current case, but he had no idea what.

"No."

Tom saw Booker eye the bottle he'd taken away. "You're not getting it back, so forget it."

"You sound like my mother."

"Ha." Hanson rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's glare. "That's not going to make me give it back." He studied him for a moment. "I've never seen you act like this."

"A lot of things you've never seen," Dennis answered quietly, and Tom frowned.

Unbidden – against his will, really – his mind drifted back to the conversation they'd had a few days ago, about Booker's old girlfriend and his drinking, and it was his turn to stare at the bottle. He took a deep breath, deciding that he didn't like the direction his thoughts were taking. "I wish you'd talk to me."

His lover just shook his head and turned away, walking out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom. "I can't deal with this; I've got enough other crap on my mind."

"Like what?" Hanson left the bottle on the counter and followed him. He wasn't willing to let this go; he was accustomed to Dennis being closed-off at times, but something told him this was different than usual. There was a lot he didn't seem to know, and his lover didn't appear at all interested in enlightening him.

Maybe he was wrong. Booker stopped in the doorway, though he didn't turn around. "I've got a study date with Greene on Monday afternoon."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tom moved to stand behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. But Dennis moved away quickly, taking a step into his bedroom.

"It's nothing; should go down smooth."

"Then why are you still going to school armed every day?"

"I just am."

"For a guy who acts for a living, you're a lousy liar."

"No worse than you."

"Thanks for proving my point." He sighed. "Fine, you don't want to tell me, whatever. But you gotta tell Fuller – and Penhall."

"Penhall won't listen to a word I say; he's convinced Adler and his friends are liars, and nothing I can say will change his mind. He made that crystal clear."

"He's just nervous about making the same mistake twice."

"Yeah – so nervous he'd rather let the guy walk even if he's guilty. Hanson, there's no way Adler's lying, and I'm not letting Greene get away with this."

Tom was silent, a little stunned by the vehemence in Dennis's voice. "What are you gonna do? How far are you gonna take this?" Something wasn't right.

"As far as it takes to convince Penhall."

"Dennis—"

Booker walked the rest of the way into the bedroom and closed the door in Hanson's face.


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

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**A/N: If anyone has any thoughts/ideas/suggestions for the prequel I'm about to start writing, please tell me in your reviews. I make no promises about being able to include things, but I absolutely _love_ being given ideas.**

**estelswolf - **Well, I'm flattered that you like it this much :-D As I've said in other reviews, characterization is a huge deal for me, so... thank you! As for your suspicions about Dennis, well, they'll be laid to rest with this update, as a matter of fact. And I think I'm going to start writing the prequel soon.

**daizia - **Okay, I get ya now ;) I'm a little slow sometimes :-P You're not reading anything wrong, don't worry >whistles angelically> There will be more dealing with Dennis's mother and that whole situation, and you'll see why he reacted that way about his father. Regarding how far the thing with Greene will go, well, all may not be as you expect ;)

**Chloe - **He's not trying to be mean, he just doesn't quite know how to deal with everything that's happening. Our boy has... issues. :-P Yeah, coming out was hard, but there's an additional reason you aren't entirely aware of.

**xobabiigirl54 - **Thanks! The party's going to be _very_ interesting... I hope

**Just A Fan - **A mommy that's shocked is a mommy that understands, huh? That's an interesting thought ;) And we'll see more of Dennis's mom. As for Hanson getting the door slammed in his face, well, he understands - though not as well as he _will_. Regarding the booze, well... >whistles angelically>

**Rosepetal - **Yep. Poor Hanson, poor Booker, and evil, evil Joanne ;)

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**Chapter 11**

"What time's this party start tonight?" Tom leaned against the locker next to Joanne's. The later, the better; never would be preferable. But he didn't have that kind of luck.

She jumped, her eyes going wide as she shoved something back into her locker. Then she gave him the coy smile he'd begun to dread over the last few days. "Whenever _you_ get there." She ran her fingers across his chest, and it was all he could do not to grab her hand and push her away. Apparently, no one had ever taught this girl the virtues of playing hard-to-get.

"No, seriously; I gotta give my parents a hand with something after school." What he needed to do was head back to the Chapel so he could be there when Doug and Dennis reported in. Something needed to be done before Booker got himself in over his head, and he hoped Doug would listen to him.

She pouted for a second, then gave him another smile. "That's okay; good things are worth the wait." She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and looked up, batting her eyes. What B-movie had he wandered into?

"Uh, yeah. I'm, uh, glad you think so." As the bell rang, he glanced down the hall. "I gotta go." He started to move away, but she tightened her hold on him.

"Don't I get a kiss?"

What had he done to deserve this? He leaned over, brushing his lips quickly against hers. She clearly wasn't pleased, but she did release him. "See you at lunch," he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Love you."

He literally froze mid-stride, almost falling over because of the delay in his foot hitting the floor. _You gotta be kidding me._ Maybe he could fake a head injury before tonight.

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"I think Hanson's getting in over his head." Judy frowned at him and Joanne where they sat across the room. "You know, she spent fifteen minutes in the locker room talking about the sleeping arrangements for the next two days?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "The 'sleeping arrangements'?"

"If you can call them that," she replied dryly. "Let's just say, Hanson better take a nap tonight, because he's gonna need to be up all weekend watching his behind."

He let out a low whistle. "Y'know, I've been watching Joanne, and I think Tom's right. Something very weird is going on with her."

Hoffs turned to face him. "So help me, Harry, if you're _just_ realizing that, I'm telling Fuller I want a new partner."

Ioki glared at her. "Ha ha. Very funny."

"I'm serious! That girl has been doing everything she can to get into his pants since the day she met him. He's gonna have a hell of a time this weekend."

"You think we should be ready to run interference?"

She rested her chin in her hand. "I don't know. I think Hanson's right that she knows something, and right now, he's got the best chance of finding out what, and I don't want to blow that. But…"

"But, you don't want him to get himself into trouble, especially considering the whole thing with Bartero he just got out of," Ioki finished for her. "Jude, Hanson can fend off a teenage girl."

"That _teenage girl_ is nuts, Harry. And Hanson thinks she killed her sister." Judy kept her voice low. "Look, he said he's going to go back to Jump Street after school; we can talk to Fuller then, the three of us, and see what he thinks."

"I think you're blowing it out of proportion," he told her. "Hanson will be fine; he can handle himself."

"I don't know, Harry. I just have a bad feeling about this."

"Yeah, I know. But meanwhile, what if she's innocent, and it was somebody else who killed Leslie, and we're spending all our time watching her?"

She didn't answer as she watched Hanson stand up, Joanne following suit. As they walked toward the trash bins, she saw the girl reach down and grab his ass. "Y'know, I don't think it's funny anymore."

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Doug was the first person Hanson saw when he got to the Chapel and when he walked up to him, instead of bringing up his and Dennis's case, he said simply, "Hit me."

Penhall looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Have you—" He glanced past Tom, and Hanson turned to see Harry come in with Judy right behind him. "Has he flipped?"

"Maybe," Ioki answered.

"I think Joanne's getting to him," Hoffs offered.

"Damn right she's getting to me," he spat out as they made their way toward Fuller's office. Once they'd reached the doorway, he went on. "I swear, Coach. I don't know if it's because of her sister's death or what but I really think this girl's gone off the deep end."

"_Someone's_ gone off the deep end," he heard Doug muttered. "But I think it's him."

"I'm gonna deck you."

"A minute ago you asked me to do that to you," he replied. "See what I mean?"

"That's because if I have to deal with Joanne all weekend, I'm gonna kill her and plead temporary insanity."

"Permanent insanity."

Tom sighed. It figured Dennis would pick that moment to arrive. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem." His boyfriend smirked as Fuller cleared his throat.

"Am I being included in this little conference? Or should I vacate the premises?"

For a moment Hanson thought about reminding the Captain he'd been talking to him, but thought better of it and instead went in and flopped down on the couch against the wall. Fuller eyed him for a second, then said, "Make yourself comfortable."

"I will. Thanks." Tom gave him a big, fake smile, then moved his legs out of the way so Hoffs could sit down. "I hate this case, coach."

"So I noticed. What's going on, Hanson?"

"I really think she's crazy. I know her for an hour and she glues herself to my side. It's been a week and she won't let me out of her sight. This morning, she tells me she loves me. I don't know if she lost it after her sister died, or if she's been like this all along, but…"

"She told you she loves you?" Hanson reveled a bit in the incredulity in Ioki's voice, until the man went on. "She must be insane."

"Yeah, have her hospitalized," Penhall agreed. Hanson hid a smile as Judy smacked him in the back of the head.

"Let's try to keep this on track, shall we? Where do we stand? Ioki?"

The Vietnamese man dropped into a chair. "Greg and I went out for pizza last night; I couldn't get him to talk about what he said about Joanne the day of the fire, but he _did_ talk a little about Leslie. He didn't say much, but one of the things he did mention was that she and Joanne weren't getting along. That was one of the things they were fighting over."

Hanson leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "They were fighting over her not getting along with her sister?"

"The bruises – the reason I thought there might be some abuse? Greg finally told me he tried to get Leslie to tell him what happened to her, but she wouldn't. He threatened to go after her stepfather, and she started screaming at him to stay out of everything."

"What's that got to do with Joanne?" Hoffs asked.

"He asked if Joanne knew, and she told him that Joanne wouldn't tell him anything; he said that at the time he thought it was for the same reason Leslie wouldn't." He paused. "Kids are awfully closed-mouthed about abuse. But he said that the way Joanne acted after Leslie was hit by the car made him wonder if Joanne had something to do with what happened."

Judy scowled. "Does this not make sense to anyone else?"

Tom shook his head. "Not at all. You get anything else, Harry?"

He shrugged. "That's it."

Fuller just nodded and turned his attention to Judy. "Hoffs? Anything?"

"Sounds like both girls would smoke a joint or two after school, but nothing more than that. Something weird, though. I've never seen cheerleaders this closed-mouthed. Usually they're too air headed to know when to shut up." Hanson choked down a laugh; as much as he owed Judy for mocking him the last few days, she'd probably kill him if he said word one about the cheerleading thing.

"All three of you are going to that party this weekend, right?"

"Captain—"

"Get whatever you can out of her, Hanson, but don't get yourself into trouble. I don't want to come into work sometime next week to another message like the one about Bartero."

"Glad we're agreed."

"You two—" Fuller pointed at Judy and Ioki, "stick to him as much as you can, without blowing your covers. I don't know that this girl is crazy, but she may very well be unbalanced – and if she _did_ kill her sister, that means she's dangerous regardless. Now, I want a report from at least one of you twice a day, starting tonight. Make sure I get it, or Penhall and Booker'll be crashing the party."

"What fun." Hanson shot his boyfriend a look as Fuller shifted gears.

"How's _your_ case?" Booker gave a short laugh and the Captain stared at him. "Something amusing I should know about?"

When neither Dennis nor Doug spoke, Hanson decided to answer for them. It might be safer that way. "They don't agree whether they _have_ a case, coach."

"That so." The older man frowned. "Someone care to explain?"

"Penhall thinks the kids are lying, that they're just trying to get revenge. I don't." There was no mistaking Booker's clipped tone, and Tom wondered for a second if this conversation was going to end in blows. There was a good chance, the way Dennis had been going the last few days.

"The guy flunked 'em and they're pissed."

"They're pissed because of what he did _after_ he flunked them."

"Whatever you say," Doug muttered.

The Captain cleared his throat. "Just the facts, please," he said pointedly. Tom would have smirked if he didn't know how strung out Dennis was over the case – and over Doug's disagreeing with him.

"I got a study date with Greene for Monday."

Fuller nodded, but his expression didn't change. "Whose idea?"

"His."

"Right." Hanson winced at Penhall's comment, knowing that would be the last straw for Booker.

He was right. "What is your _problem_, man?" his boyfriend snapped, pushing off the door he'd been leaning against.

"Why don't you tell me? You were more than willing to yesterday," Penhall shot back.

At that, Fuller's chair went back and he stood up, bringing a hand down hard on his desk. "Enough, both of you. I want to know what's going on without any outside commentary."

It was clear they both wanted to pursue it, and equally clear that neither dared bring Fuller's wrath down on his head. In the end, it was Dennis who started talking first. "He told me he'd have preferred to start 'tutoring' me sooner, but he had plans."

"All right. Be there, and be prepared to bust him the second he starts on you. Penhall, you too."

"Yes, _sir_." His displeasure with the situation was obvious, and, with his eyes, Hanson pleaded with Doug not to push it.

The captain, however, chose now to acknowledge the tension between them. "Now, someone feel like telling me just what the problem is with this case?"

Penhall answered first. "I haven't seen _anything_ that looks like these kids are telling the truth. They spend lunch time talking about how much they hate the guy. There's nothing there."

"No." Hanson could hear the anger in Dennis's voice, and cringed inwardly. "You just don't know what to look for." Every word was clipped, and as he felt Judy tense beside him, Tom knew she'd picked up on it too.

"I've been through this before, Booker, and I don't feel like watching another person's life go down the _toilet_ because the department screws up."

"It ever occur to you that even though _that_ guy was innocent, this one might not be?"

"Actually, yeah. It did. But I'm telling you, I don't believe it."

"And I'm telling you you're wrong."

From the tones of their voices, it sounded like they'd had this argument before. Hanson looked to Fuller, expecting him to intervene, but the Captain didn't move or speak.

"What makes you so damn sure?" Penhall snarled.

Dennis, who'd been staring at the floor, raised his head slowly, and Tom was a little unnerved by the hard look in his eyes. "You don't want to know."

"Penhall," Hanson warned, rising slowly. The man ignored him, eyes fixed on Booker.

"Try me."

"Doug." Tom tore his gaze away from Dennis to look at Judy as she spoke. "Doug, stop it."

"No. He's spent the last week telling me I'm wrong every damn time I turn around. I want to know how he got so smart. How about it, Booker? How do you know I'm wrong?"

"Because I've been there." Tom froze where he stood, and it was only when he felt Judy's hand tighten on his arm that he realized he'd heard correctly. A moment later, Dennis left the office.


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Irreparable

**Summary:** A false accusation leads to divisive revelations for the Jump Street team, but they overcome their differences in the face of a tragic event – and a case with deeply personal resonance.

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

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**estelswolf - **I love getting inside people's heads; I should have been a shrink ;-) At this point, I'm not entirely sure there will end up being a trial >whistles innocently> And as for giving Dennis some time, yeah, Tom may regret not doing that...

**Just a Fan - **Booker's been where Adler is. That's the best explanation I can give you atm, but you'll see more in this update. So Penhall's being a man, huh? What does that make Dennis:-P I love that quote! Though... are you calling Dennis a saint? ;-)

**Nina - **Yep, poor Dennis. As for getting through the case, well, this should be interesting. I think I'll leave it at that ;-) Joanne, yeah... she's got some issues, and they'll eventually come to a head. Keep coming with the ideas for the prequel; you're giving me lots of thoughts to run with- though some of them are sorta evil ;)

**daizia - **Joanne has definitely got some problems, and you'll see the extent of them soon. The deal with the cheerleaders too.When I write, I try to keep in mind whether the scene would be realistic to the show, and I'm glad it's working. Regarding Dennis and the case he's on, you'll see how Fuller wants to handle it soon.

**A/N: **According to the show Booker, Dennis's father Nick left him and his mother when Dennis was eight. For my purposes, I've altered that and he leaves when Dennis is 13.

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**Chapter 12**

Hanson watched his boyfriend leave, unsure of what to do. He glanced between Judy, who looked sick, and Fuller, who looked a little stunned. His gaze skimmed over Ioki, who just seemed uncomfortable, and finally landed on Doug. "Good job, Penhall." Then he stood up and went after Dennis without another word.

He grabbed the first officer he saw. "Where'd he go?"

"Huh? Who?"

"My partner."

"Who?"

Tom halfheartedly fought back his frustration. "Booker. Dennis Booker. My partner. Where'd he go?"

"I don't know."

With a low growl, Hanson lightly pushed the man away, only to have another officer, a woman he'd seen around a few times, approach him. "He went toward the men's room," she said quietly, and he shot her a grateful look.

He waited outside the door to the restroom before pushing it open. Dennis was standing at one of the sinks, hands on the sides, head down. "Babe?"

"Leave me alone, Hanson."

"Nope." He took a step forward and, hesitantly, rested a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder, only to have Booker push him away.

"Don't."

Raising his hands in a submissive gesture, Tom moved back, giving Dennis his space. After a few minutes he asked quietly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to tell anyone."

"You should have."

Booker finally turned around, glaring daggers. "Why? So Doug would feel sorry for me, or so you could go running to Fuller, telling him to pull me off the case?"

_Partly_. "No, so I could be there! I spent the last week watching you fall apart without knowing why. You _should_ have told me." He fought the urge to reach for him. "Tell me now."

"No."

"Yes." Hanson grabbed his arm and spun him around, only to have Dennis shove him back against the wall. He winced as his head cracked against the hard surface, but was bothered more by his boyfriend's next words than the physical display.

"Don't touch me!"

Tom stared at him, but didn't move. "Okay, I won't. _If_ you'll talk to me." He crossed his arms over his chest. "What happened?"

Booker took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Same thing that happened to Adler," he said simply. He wrapped his arms around himself and leaned back against the sink and raised his eyes to Tom's, looking for a response. When Hanson didn't move or speak, he went on. "I was thirteen. The guy was my English teacher; his name was Schenck. He failed me on a test on _Romeo and Juliet_, when I got everything right." There was a strange quality in Dennis's voice.

"What did he do?"

"We had these progress reports that were going out the end of the week. I wasn't doing so hot, and when I failed that test I was kind of screwed. My dad went through the roof, and I was pretty black-and-blue on Monday morning. Schenck kept me after school, asked me what happened. He already knew – he knew my father."

Tom took his silence as an opportunity to move closer. "What did he do?"

"Started telling me it'd be okay. Sat me down, rubbed my shoulders, asked me if I wanted him to report it. I told him no, it wasn't that big a deal." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I was used to it by then."

Hanson mentally filed the remark – and its implications – away for future reference. "Then what?"

"Then… he didn't keep his hands on my shoulders anymore. He moved them down my chest. Then he kissed me, and told me there was something I could do so I wouldn't have to worry about failing anymore."

"Have sex with him," Tom said quietly.

"Exactly."

"What did—"

"I ran; I freaked out and took off. But my dad lost it the next time I flunked a quiz, and Schenck could tell, and he did it again." Tom heard his voice break. "That time, I let him."

Finally, he raised his eyes. "Lasted about four months, til my aunt got sick and my dad went to the school to pick me up from my _tutoring_ session, but I wasn't there. Schenck – he'd decided that school wasn't the best place to screw around with a student. I got home… my mother wasn't there; she went to see her sister. Dad – he was gonna hit me. But when he started screaming and I didn't mouth off at him he figured out something was wrong. I just stood there, started crying."

He shook his head slowly and Tom was a little unnerved to see that his face was completely void of emotion. "He lost it. I thought he was gonna – I don't know what I thought he was gonna do. He and Schenck'd been friends for years. That was another thing the guy held over me, that dad wouldn't believe me if I told him."

"What happened then?" Tom had managed to get close enough to take Dennis's hand, and was gratified when he didn't pull away or push him back.

"Mom came home, Dad wanted to call the cops, but I wouldn't let him. They kept me out of school a few days, and then the next week the guy was shot in a drive-by." A bitter smile played over his lover's lips. "I wasn't sorry, and neither was my dad."

Tom frowned at that, raising an eyebrow slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Booker shrugged. "I heard my folks talking; it didn't sound like a random shooting." He shrugged. "I wasn't about to say anything; they never caught whoever did it."

Hanson kept his face expressionless, but inside was a little stunned by the idea that his boyfriend's father might have murdered a man – not that he could really blame him, or fault Dennis, at thirteen, for keeping quiet.

"Mom spent the next three months on a 'how-could-I-not-know-someone-was-hurting-my-son' kick, and a week after she got her head back on straight, dad took off."

Tom tightened the grip he had on Booker's left hand, then took his right, squeezing it gently. "I wish you'd told me."

"You know now."

"Yeah." He looked down, then raised his eyes. "You should never have been put on this case."

"I'm not quitting." Dennis tried to pull away but Tom wouldn't let him. "I can't, Hanson."

"Let's remember I'm your boyfriend for a minute, and stop acting like I'm a cop, huh?" Booker looked away as he spoke. "I spent the last week watching you fall apart. Having to deal with this guy is killing you, and it's not worth it. This case isn't worth you driving yourself crazy." He released one of his hands and moved it to his boyfriend's chin, tilting his head to face him. "Look me in the eye and tell me that seeing Greene every day doesn't bother you at all."

"I'm a big boy, Tom. I can do my job."

"But what's it gonna cost you in the process?"

"_This_ is why I didn't _tell_ anyone!" Booker finally pulled away from him. "Let me do my job."

Suddenly, his boyfriend's determination made sense. "You don't want this guy to get away, and you don't think anyone else can do it."

"Penhall won't."

"Forget Penhall! You give the word and Fuller'll have this guy picked up in an hour, and you won't have to see him again."

"I can handle it."

"That's why you look like you're about to collapse."

Dennis shot him a look. "Sorry, I wasn't planning on dragging skeletons out of the closet this afternoon."

Tom ignored the sarcasm, though it was better than the emptiness in Booker's voice as he'd been telling his story. "Why don't you head home? I'll tell Fuller."

They stood in silence for a while, until Booker finally nodded. "Yeah." He hesitated. "I'll see you Sunday night?"

"If not before," Hanson replied, thinking of Fuller's comment. "I'll call tonight and tomorrow, at least once."

"Be careful."

"You, too."

-------------------------

The other Jump Street officers watched in silence as Hanson went after Booker. Judy rested her head in a hand, not quite believing how things had just played out. She'd seen it coming, though she wasn't sure exactly what the story was. "Nice work, Doug."

He glanced over at her, but wouldn't meet her eyes. "I didn't know."

"No kidding," she retorted, casting a quick look at Ioki, who was still staring at the door.

"Jude—"

"I think everyone's said plenty," Fuller interrupted him, and Hoffs was glad when he redirected the conversation to the case at hand. "Penhall, _could_ he be right?"

He shrugged, and for a moment Judy felt sorry for him; he clearly hadn't expected Booker's revelation. Not that any of them had, but… "I don't know, Coach. Could go either way. He knows what to look for, but he might be imagining it."

"Is it possible?"

"Yeah, it's _possible_. But I don't know how _likely_ it is."

"Well, when he meets Greene, you be there. In the closet, down the hall, outside the window, I don't care. But be there, and the second anything so much as _starts_ to go down, stop it, no matter what Booker says to you between now and then."

"Got it."

The room fell silent again, and stayed that way until Hanson returned – and for a few minutes after. Finally, Judy spoke. "Is he all right?"

Hanson glanced at her. "He will be." He directed his attention to the Captain. "He went home, Coach. I figured it was okay."

"It's fine." Fuller glanced down at the desk. "Penhall, Ioki, you can go." Judy stood to leave with them, but the Captain shook his head and gestured for her to sit. "Hoffs, stay."

Once they were alone in the office, Fuller folded his hands on the desk. "Hanson, did you know about this?"

"No. He didn't tell me, because he knew I would've told you to pull him out."

"Okey dokey." The Captain was quiet for a moment, and when he looked up, his expression was, if possible, even more serious. "I want both your _professional_ opinions about Booker and this case."

"Why me?" Judy asked. Hanson, she could understand.

"Because you're good at reading people, Hoffs, and because I want an opinion other than Hanson's, and I'm not too keen on getting it from Penhall or Ioki right about now." He paused. "Hanson, should Booker stay on this case?"

He hesitated. "I don't know."

"You said a minute ago you'd have told me to pull him off it if you'd known."

"Yeah, I would've. But that probably would have been instinct, not… I don't know, coach." He raked a hand through his hair and turned away, pacing the office to the point Judy wanted to get up and shove him into a chair. "He says he can do it."

"Do you believe him?"

"I think so." Hanson stopped walking and turned back to face him. "He says he can do the job; he doesn't want to see Greene walk. He knew he was the best choice for it from the start." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and started moving again, but this time when he passed Hoffs she reached up to take his hand, and was a little surprised when he stopped moving and held on tightly. "I'm just worried about what it's going to cost him."

Judy gave Tom's hand a gentle tug and he finally sat down beside her. "I reminded him that all he had to do was give the word and Greene won't even make it into school on Monday, but… I think he wants to catch the guy in the act. I think, no matter what Penhall says, he _is_ worried about wrongly arresting the guy, and he wants to make sure he's not just assuming Greene's guilty because of what happened to him." Then he shrugged. "Or maybe he just wants to make sure he doesn't get off."

"Hoffs?"

"Well, I think Greene's guilty, Captain, and I wouldn't worry about picking him up now. Probably be easier on the guy than getting dragged out of the high school in handcuffs on Monday afternoon. But if Booker isn't ready to give the word…"

"Yeah." Fuller's frown deepened and not for the first time, Hoffs wished she could hear his thoughts. "What do you think of his current state of mind?"

"He's been okay so far, hasn't he? I mean, he's holding it together enough that nobody saw anything was wrong, right? That's not going to change automatically now that we know."

"I knew something was wrong." Judy glanced over at Tom as he spoke, surprised. "I didn't know what, but I knew there was something he wasn't saying. He told me he'd tell me, eventually."

"But even still, he wasn't falling apart," Hoffs pointed out. "I mean, I'd probably tell Penhall that if, on Monday, he honestly thinks Booker can't handle it, he should get him out of the school—"

"Dennis'd kill him," Tom interrupted.

"Probably, but at least he'd be sane enough to do it."

"Penhall has that responsibility regardless; that goes without saying." The Captain sighed. "Okay, he stays in. And I know neither of you is going to be around this weekend, but if you think of anything, or you talk to him at all between now and Monday afternoon and anything changes, you call me immediately. I don't care what time it is."

Judy nodded and rose, keeping hold of Tom's hand, and in the process half-dragged him to his feet. Outside the office, she pulled him toward her desk, glad that Harry and Doug were nowhere in sight. "Are you going to be okay for this weekend?"

He shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah. I would have preferred to find out about this _after_ the party, but I'll manage."

"If you need me or Harry to run interference – if you need to call him or take off for a while or anything – let me know."

"Coach'd love that."

"He'd get over it. I mean it, Hanson. If you need anything—"

"I'll let you know." He turned away, then stopped and faced her again. "Thanks, Jude. You're the only one not acting weird about everything, and I appreciate it."

"What are friends for?" It was as clichéd as she could possibly get, but Hanson didn't seem to mind. In fact, he smiled, and patted her on the arm.

"Thanks."


	13. Chapter 13

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

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Okay, so, 44 views and not a single review to Chapter 12, huh:-( I take it you guys didn't like that chapter... or what? >sighs>Well, I hope you like this better...  
Seriously, even if - hell, especially if - you don't like something, please tell me why, huh? Thanks.

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**Chapter 13**

Hanson made it halfway up the walkway to the Crisal home before the door flew open, several semi-intoxicated students stumbling out with Joanne a few steps behind them. She ran down toward him, literally flinging herself into his arms. "I wondered if you were even going to show. Everyone else has been here for hours!"

"I can see that," he muttered, stepping over one individual – who, interestingly enough, didn't seem the least bit drunk – lying across the walk. "Told you I had to help my folks with something." As she pressed herself against his side, he slipped an arm around her waist. "Besides, better late than never, right?"

"_Much_ better." She stopped and twisted in his embrace, rising up on her toes to kiss him. He cringed inwardly at the hollers from various students – including Hoffs and Ioki – but didn't pull away. "You want anything?"

"Wouldn't mind a beer." _Or ten._ He caught Judy's eye and forced a smile as he allowed Joanne to lead him into the house. Inside, students were clustered randomly in every first-floor room, and there were various couples traipsing up and down the stairs, their expressions leaving little doubt as to their activities.

Joanne weaved through the line that snaked around the kitchen island, snatching a couple of bottles from the refrigerator, then grabbed a bottle opener from a hook by the wine cabinet. He let her take his hand again and they headed toward the back of the house. "You brought your bathing suit, right?"

He nodded toward his book bag. "Of course."

"Good." She released his hand and slid a glass door open. "Come on."

Tom followed her inside, almost bowled over by the smell of chlorine. There were a few kids in the pool, and something resembling a line by the diving board; more students than were actually in the water were lounging on chairs along one wall. Joanne led him along the wall and toward another door in the back. "My room is this way."

It was all he could do not to freeze up at her words, and as the young woman paused to open the door, Tom took the opportunity to look around for Judy or Ioki. He didn't see Hoffs, but Harry was lingering by the pool, near the shallow end. Hanson caught Ioki's eye right before Joanne practically yanked him through the door.

Joanne's room was smaller than Tom had expected, considering the rest of the house, but the furnishings were, if he was any judge, definitely on the expensive side.

The girl flopped down on the bed, then sat up and opened her own drink, before reaching out to take his. Once she'd given it back, he sat down beside her, drawing one leg up onto the bed. "So…"

"I like you, Tommy."

_No kidding?_ "I like you, too." That was appropriately awkward-teenagerish. He tipped the beer bottle against his lips and tried to gauge just how much trouble he was in right about now. Probably, a lot.

"Good." She maneuvered herself onto her knees, then set her drink down. "I liked you the second I saw you at school."

"I… uh, thank you." He shrank back a little, tugging at his color, and downed the rest of his beer.

"I want you, Tommy," she whispered, creeping forward.

_Whoo boy._ "I, um, I'm flattered, Joanne, but we… there's kind of a problem."

She frowned at him, but didn't retreat. "What kind of problem?"

_I've got a boyfriend at home?_ "I don't… I don't believe in sex outside of marriage." He forced a wry smile to his lips. "I'm no saint…" he raised his beer, "but that's kind of a big thing for me."

To his surprise, she did back off then. "Oh."

"I'm sorry; I didn't want to lead you on, but…"

"It's… okay." Her slightly shell-shocked expression faded and the flirtatious grin returned. "Doesn't mean I can't still try."

_I knew it was too good to be true_. "No, I guess not. Don't know if you want to waste the effort."

"Somehow, I don't think it'll be _wasted_." She slid off the bed and grabbed her beer, downing the remainder in one gulp. "I need another drink."

He drained his own bottle and rose. "Me too."

-------------------------

Turning the television on, Booker stretched out on the couch, staring at the football game without actually seeing it. He eyed the beer he'd set on the coffee table, but didn't reach for it. If he drank that one, chances were he wouldn't stop drinking, and Tom would kick his ass on Sunday.

The problem was, he wasn't sure he cared at this point. He wasn't entirely sure there was anything to care about.

Hell, he wasn't sure he still had a job. Fuller would be within his rights to suspend him for not telling anybody – or at least require him to talk to the department shrink, which might be even worse.

Dennis scowled as one of the Redskins took a particularly bad hit, and watched the man be carried off the field, then rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. As much as he knew he could never have asked Tom not to go to the party – and as much as he knew Hanson would have stayed if he _had_ asked – part of him felt betrayed by the fact that his boyfriend wasn't around.

At the same time, he knew that even if Tom were here, he couldn't be sure he'd even want to be near him. Pushing him away earlier – that had been pure instinct, and he'd scared the hell out of himself, and Hanson, by reacting like that.

Although, maybe if Tom were here, the memories wouldn't be. But he wasn't, and they were, and every time he closed his eyes, he could see Schenck standing in front of him, feel his hands on his shoulders…

A sudden pounding at the door jerked him – thankfully – out of his memories. He hauled himself upright and stood slowly. "Coming."

He opened the door and stopped short, less than pleased to see the man standing in the hall. "Penhall."

"Can I, uh, can I come in?"

"Sure. Why not?" Booker made a grand gesture, motioning the man in, and closed the door behind him. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to apologize. I… if I'd known—"

Dennis cut him off. "Know something, Doug? I'm glad you didn't know, because you proved _exactly_ what you think of me as a cop."

"Booker, look, I've just made that mistake before, and I didn't want to do it again."

"Penhall, tell me one thing. If you'd been partnered with Tom and he'd been telling you Greene was guilty, would you have listened?" Doug took a second too long responding and Dennis nodded. "That's what I thought."

"You gotta understand, I know Hanson. I know his judgment, how he thinks."

"Yeah, and you've been working with me for a year."

"Not… not _with_ you." Booker could see in Penhall's face that the excuse sounded lame even to him. "I just—"

"Don't trust me." Dennis shook his head. "Don't worry, Doug. I'm gonna tell Fuller on Tuesday not to assign us together anymore. If you can't trust me, one of us will just end up getting killed because of it, and while you may or may not care about that, I don't really want it on my conscience."

"Booker, that's not fair."

"There's a lot of things that aren't fair," Dennis shot back, but clamped his mouth shut before he could say anything more. "Get out, Penhall."

Doug didn't move. "I came. To apologize. And I'm going to. So you can talk over me, or you can let me say what I came to say, and I'll go." Out of a desire to see him leave, Booker kept quiet. "I was out of line. You were right, about me being afraid to screw up again, and I probably would have rather let the guy go than make the same mistake again. But I should have at least listened to you. And I shouldn't have pushed it like that today in Fuller's office."

If Penhall had expected much of anything in response, he was disappointed. Dennis folded his arms across his chest and said simply, "Accepted." Doug hung his head a little, but kept up his end of the bargain and left without so much as another word.

Booker watched him leave, not feeling an ounce of guilt – or, for that matter, the acceptance he'd just offered Penhall.

-------------------------

"How's it going?"

Hanson glared at Harry from behind his beer. "Ten minutes. I was here ten minutes before she tried to get me into bed."

Ioki raised an eyebrow. "How'd you get out of it?"

"Told her I don't believe in sex before marriage." He felt his face flush as Harry snickered.

Of course, Hoffs chose that exact moment to approach. "What's so funny?"

"Hanson's suddenly become virtuous."

"Harry!"

Judy looked between them both. "How much have you two had?"

"You don't _know_ how much I wish I _was_ drunk right now, Jude. Or unconscious. Or—"

"You're really a poor sport, Hanson," Ioki said, grinning at him in a way that made Tom want to knock his teeth out.

Hoffs took the opportunity to wedge herself in between them and fixed her eyes on Hanson. "Are you all right?"

He eyed her for a moment, feeling a bit better for the concern in her eyes, and shook his head. "I don't know if I can do this." He raised the bottle. "This is my 'third' drink. I poured the last one down the sink in the bathroom. She's supposed to be on her fourth, but I don't think she's actually had much at all."

The concern on Judy's face was unmistakable. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I told her I won't sleep with her so I think she's trying to get me drunk. And if I have to deal with her much longer I might start actually drinking."

"You want me to call Fuller?"

Hanson frowned. "No; he'll just tell you to tell me to deal with it. Which I can, except that—"

His eyes went wide as Judy suddenly rose onto her toes, reaching up to pull his head down, and kissed him. A moment later her lips moved toward his ear and she whispered, "Just go along with me." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry turn away to face the wall, then slip around a corner.

Hoffs tilted her head to the side, resting it on his shoulder, and he leaned down slightly, his face in the crook of her neck. "What's going on?"

She didn't answer, just pressed closer to him and snaked her arms around his neck. She kissed him again and, a moment later, slid one of her hands down his back to cup his ass. After a few seconds, she pulled back, raising her arm to rest around his waist. "C'mon."

Maintaining contact with him, Judy began to guide Tom toward the hall that Ioki had disappeared down. It wasn't until they reached the end and made it into a closed – and locked – bedroom that they finally separated. "What was that?" He walked toward the mirror, rubbing at the lipstick that had come off on his cheek.

"If you have to ask, you and Dennis are in serious need of some alone time."

Even as he turned to glare at her, Tom felt his face grow hot. "_Not_ what I meant," he growled.

She stuck her tongue out at him, but then sobered. "There was a girl I recognized; Harry and I busted her boyfriend for dealing crack at Southside. I don't know what she's doing here, but if she sees us, she'll blow the whistle."

"Because this wasn't bad enough already." Tom sank down on the bed and rested his head in his hands. After a second or two, he took a deep breath and looked up. "What do we do? We just hang around and hope she doesn't see you two?"

"I'm gonna call Fuller." She sat down next to him and reached for the phone, setting it next to her on the bed. Lifting the receiver slowly, she held it to her ear, then gave him a thumbs-up before dialing the number.

"It's me; we've got a problem, Captain." Judy didn't give the Captain a chance to talk. "There's a girl here from Southside who can ID me and Harry, Trista Jackson." Hanson strained to hear Fuller's response, but gave up after a few moments and opted just to listen to Judy's side of the conversation. "And Hanson can't be left here alone. The girl's already trying to get him in the sack – she's trying to get him drunk."

Tom scowled at her and she waved him off. "No, he's okay – for now. But I wouldn't mind having some backup, just in case we need…" At that moment, Hanson heard her voice falter and looked up quickly. Her eyes went wide and her tone of voice changed instantly. No longer whispering, she went on, "Dad, you don't need to send Doug or Dennis; my friend Harry's looking out for me, just like he promised." Hoffs paused. "Dad, come on!" She went quiet again, then said, "Whatever" and slammed the phone down.

"Someone picked up an extension?"

Judy nodded, sighing and brushing her hair back from her face. "Yeah. I _think_ I caught myself in time though."

Hanson looked down. "I didn't want Dennis to come."

"Someone's gotta be here in case Harry and I get made, Hanson, and you _know_ he'll keep an eye on your ass."

"Yeah, but he doesn't need this right now."

"Maybe he does – distract him, y'know?" She shrugged. "And at least you'll be with him; maybe you can sneak away from Joanne and talk to him tonight or something."

"Maybe." He reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. "I meant to thank you, before, for being okay about everything."

She shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Doug and Harry aren't."

"Doug and Harry can go…" she trailed off and patted his leg. "Hanson, you're happy. And Dennis is happy. And that's _all_ I care about." She hopped off the bed and grabbed his hand. "C'mon. And let's hope your girlfriend doesn't think you're running around on her. Because if she does, she is _not_ going to let you get away."

"Don't remind me." He paused. "Maybe I'll tell her I'm gay."

"You can tell her whatever you want, _after_ this case is over. In fact, I'd kill to be there when you do." She winked at him and headed for the door. "Let's go wait for the guys."


	14. Chapter 14

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

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**Chloe -**Thanks >hugs> See, I've seen the tv show "Booker" - have you ever watched that? - and Dennis's character is very... different. He's more developed, deeper, a nicer guy and somewhat less womanizing. Also, more introspective. Though, of course, he still has the edge that makes him Booker. Here's a great quote from an episode where he's had people trying to pay him to break guys' arms or legs, when he makes an announcement to the entire office because he's sick of it:  
_"All right, listen up, and I'm only going to say it once, so write it down, okay. I am not an animal, I am a man. I am a human being. I won't break limbs for money, I fear Mike Tyson, I don't eat razorblades, I haven't slept with more women than Picasso... and I love cats."  
_As for Hanson and Penhall, well, I'll read it (I love slash, as you could probably tell :-P ) but I can't see it enough to write it. Probably partly b/c I don't have a solid enough grasp of Penhall. Both Hanson and Booker I can identify with, so I can understand them and see this working ;)

**Island-of-corfu - **Thanks! Always love new readers :-D I find that a lot of people aren't big Booker fans; I probably wouldn't like him near as much if I hadn't seen his show (see my note to Chloe), but even his character in JS fascinates me. And, yes, I adore particulars. ;) I'm really enjoying writing Judy in the role of Tom's supporter, because while she's partnered with Harry for the most part in the show, she and Hanson seem to have a unique bond. I love the episode where they're undercover at the school where they almost have a race riot... then Judy's handling of Tom after his girlfriend dies, etc. So they falling into this kind of friendship seems fitting to me. And as for not having everyone all cool with Tom and Dennis being together - well, it was only the late 80's, early 90's. I just didn't think it'd be realistic for there not to be some trouble. Glad you agree :-D

**xobabiigirl54 - **With the work schedule I've got coming up, I'll be lucky to manage a chapter every five days, never mind five chapters a day. But I'll try to write this weekend so you guys don't have to wait so much. And if you're really bored, I have a couple other Jump Street things posted here :-P shameless plug :-P

**daizia - **Regarding Dennis's reaction to Tom touching him, and whether that type of thing will continue... remember, Dennis has a past and it's rapidly coming back to haunt him. Oh, and did I mention it'll soon get much, much worse? As far as Booker's dad and the teacher, well, let me say this: According to the show "Booker," Dennis's father's reason for leaving, which Dennis finds out in the last episode of "Booker," was that he went into the witness protection program after testifying against a mobster. So, you do the math >whistles innocently> And... Joanne, Joanne, Joanne... she's off her rocker, huh? She's only going to get worse, lemme tell ya >evil grin> As for Dennis and Doug... Yeah, it was nice of Doug, but how much good did it do, you think? Things are going to get more difficult between these two before they get better. Regarding Trista... she's really only a minor complication... I think >evil grin>

**Nina - **Properly chastised, huh:-P I'm having fun with the character relationships - particularly Dennis and Doug, and Tom and Judy (and, of course, Dennis and Tom). So, you think Judy had ulterior motives for kissing Hanson, eh? That'd be a thought >pushes away plot bunnies> As far as Joanne... she's a bit desperate, and not quite thinking things through. However, she's not stupid, and she's got something up her sleeve. >walks off whistling>

_

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**Chapter 14**

"Nice party," Penhall muttered. "Should call in some black-and-whites. That'll fix the problem real quick."

"It might get to that," Judy retorted. "Come on." She turned around and stopped short when she saw Hanson and Joanne standing there. Her eyes flitted toward Tom's face, but he didn't look panicked, so she assumed they hadn't been there long enough to hear Doug's comment. "Tom, Joanne… my _cousins_ Doug and Dennis. My dad decided it wasn't safe for his little girl to be alone with all the high school boys." She rolled her eyes dramatically and tossed a glare in Booker's direction.

Joanne lifted an eyebrow. "_Cousins_?" Her voice was a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

"My dad's brother married some _white_ girl last year." She rolled her eyes again and cast a pointed glance at Doug, waiting for a reaction from him. She wasn't disappointed.

Penhall pointed a finger at her. "You watch your mouth when you talk about mom."

"Why don't you watch it _for_ me? That's what you're here for anyway, isn't it?"

Booker got into the act. "Can it, or I'm sure your dad would love to have you home tonight."

"Y'know, I don't _care_ if he sent you here. You are _not_ my boss, Dennis, and I'll say and do whatever I want and there is not a _thing_ you can do about it." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hanson trying not to laugh at her over-the-top acting, and glared at him for good measure.

The man didn't blink, though she could see his muscles tense. He leaned forward slightly, as if reminding her of his taller stature. "You want to bet on that?"

In response, Judy rose up on her toes and placed a hand on his chest, giving him a hard shove backward. "How much?"

Dennis caught her hand as he regained his balance, twisting her arm up and pulling her close, effectively rendering her immobile. "You couldn't afford it." Then he pushed her back, into Tom, and at that moment Harry came out of nowhere.

He moved between them, blocking Booker from reaching for her again. "Leave her alone."

"I don't want to hurt you, kid," Booker replied. "So get out of the way."

"No."

Judy felt Tom's hands on her shoulders, slowly guiding her behind him as if shielding her from an impending brawl. As she moved, she kept her eyes on Dennis and Doug. Booker glanced over at Penhall, and she was a little surprised to see no trace of the anger that had been present in Fuller's office earlier. Instead, he looked every bit the role he was trying to play, his eyes essentially asking his 'brother' _Is this guy for real?_

"Look, _kid_, we're her cousins; it ain't our fault she doesn't like us that much." Doug spread his hands innocently as Harry clenched his fists.

"I don't care who you are; keep your hands off of her!" Everyone stood still for a moment, and Hoffs could see a little apprehension in Joanne's eyes.

It faded, however, when Ioki finally moved, stepping back to take her arm. As he pulled her away, she glanced over her shoulder and gave Dennis a quick wink before letting her partner drag her off.

-------------------------

Dennis watched Joanne run off to take care of some minor disaster, and moved to stand next to Hanson. "That's her, huh?"

"That's her." Tom sipped his beer. "How much did Fuller tell you, what Jude said when she called?"

"Something about her trying to get you drunk?" He raised an eyebrow. "You all right?"

Hanson shrugged. "Yeah." He paused and offered a mirthless grin. "It's your fault, y'know."

"Huh?"

"I did what you told me to – told her I wouldn't sleep with someone I'm not married to. So now, apparently, she's decided that since I won't do it sober, maybe I'll do it drunk!" The grin was gone, and it was clear just how much the situation was weighing on his boyfriend's mind.

"Keep your voice down," Dennis admonished him, earning himself a glare. "Sorry. Guess I didn't count on her being that much of a mental case."

"Yeah, well, she is."

Tom took another drink, a much longer one this time, and Dennis reached for the bottle, letting his hand hover over his boyfriend's for just a moment. "Slow down. Joanne's going to do enough damage; you don't need to give her any help."

His lover didn't reply right away, and when he did the words weren't what Dennis had expected. "I wish you'd told me."

The walls Booker normally kept around the memories he'd spilled earlier slammed back into place. "I'm not gonna talk about this now."

"Dennis—"

"No. You want to give me hell, you can do it when we get home. Right now, we have a job to do." He paused. "And your girlfriend is headed our way." He returned to scowling, tightening a fist and glaring at Hanson.

The other man took the cue. "You touch Judy again, and Harry won't be the only one getting in your way," he hissed, just loud enough for Joanne to hear, though Dennis knew she'd probably assume Tom hadn't meant for her to. "Got it?"

Booker rolled his eyes. "You think I'm scared of you?"

"If you aren't, you should be."

It was all Dennis could do not to laugh at that, knowing how concerned Penhall was about Tom dating him. "Right. I need a beer." He shouldered his way past Hanson, despite having more than enough room to walk around him, nodding curtly at Joanne on his way toward the house.

Inside, he got himself a drink, more for appearance's sake than anything else, and stood by the window. It had long ago gotten dark, and he'd guess that about half the partiers had passed out in various places throughout the house and grounds. Joanne, however, was still quite wide awake, and from the looks of it, Tom didn't really have the energy to fend her off much longer.

Dennis watched them head toward the same door he'd come through and moved away, feigning interest in the drunken, bikini-clad teenage girls wandering around, beers in hand. Apparently, he was a little too convincing, or they were drunker than he'd thought, because one of the girls sidled up to him, draping her arms around his neck and nearly spilling her drink on him in the process. He hesitantly placed an arm around her waist as he saw Tom and Joanne come in.

His boyfriend was pleading exhaustion, but Booker heard his voice falter as Hanson looked in his direction, though he started talking again almost momentarily, reassuring her that he was perfectly fine going to bed on his own. Joanne didn't seem thrilled at the idea, but after a minute or two, she caved. But before letting him head toward the pool area – and, presumably, Joanne's room, she gave him a long, lingering kiss that made Dennis wish he was in her place.

Once Tom was gone, Dennis saw Joanne look his way, and gave her a lecherous grin. She glared at him, disgusted, before stalking by him and heading for the kitchen.

-------------------------

"Do you _know_ how many boys I've kissed tonight trying to avoid letting Trista see my face?" Judy dropped down next to Harry on the lawn, drawing her knees up to her chest. "This is going to be a disaster; I'm honestly afraid to go to sleep tonight!"

"We'll keep watch or something," Harry offered. "Hanson already went to bed; I think he figured that Joanne would leave him alone if he was already asleep; I _think_ he's in her room, though."

Hoffs grimaced. "Not the most ideal situation – not that he could avoid it." She paused and picked at a blade of grass. "When was the last time you talked to Booker or Penhall?"

"I saw Booker getting pawed by some girl in the pool room, and Doug's sort of been following you around and glaring at Booker whenever he sees him."

"You'd think he'd cool it after today," Judy muttered. "Nothing against Penhall, but his ability to be pigheaded amazes me sometimes."

"I think it amazes him, too," Ioki replied. He glanced down at Judy, who was shivering, and then looked around at the girls, still in their bathing suits for the most part, scattered across the yard. "How are they not freezing?"

"Alcohol," his partner replied dryly. "Most of these girls are so far gone they don't even feel the cold." She frowned and shook her head. "I thought the Crisals were supposed to be a middle class family, but any girl who can throw a party like this—"

"And live in a house like this," Harry interrupted, but Judy shook her head.

"Not the house so much; I guess it was the only thing left after Joanne's father died – he was sick for years, apparently. It belonged to his parents. What I don't get is where she got the money for this? Somehow, I _don't_ really see her parents giving her the money to have a huge party two weeks after their other daughter died."

Harry frowned. "You think something's going on?"

"I think she's into something; I just have no idea what." Judy scowled. "I hate good little girls. They're never actually good."

Ioki looked at her askance. "You weren't a good little girl?"

She pursed her lips at him. "Nice try, Harry."

He held his hands up innocently. "I just asked a question."

"To which you will get no reply." Judy smirked, then stood up. "Come on. It's freezing out here, and I want to talk to Doug and Dennis about tonight."

"They're not cold." He pointed toward the students sprawled across the grass.

"Harry, they're unconscious. Come on." She reached down and he let her pull him up to stand.

Booker and Penhall were leaning against the living room wall, side-by-side. Dennis had a beer in his hand that looked untouched, and Doug was working on a slice of pizza. "Where the hell have you been hiding?" Booker growled at her when he saw them.

Ioki hid a smirk as Judy glared at him. "Harry and I had a nice little romp in the bushes. Shoulda been there. It was fun."

"I bet." Dennis glanced toward him. "Just so long as he knows he's somewhere around nine or ten in line for you tonight."

"You're such a jerk."

"So they tell me."

"Would you lay off?" Harry finally snapped, deciding he ought to have had enough by now, in case there were any kids still sober enough to comprehend their conversation. "Judy, let's go back outside and leave Dennis to drink himself half to death." It wasn't serious; Booker was probably more sober than any of them. But the look that passed over Dennis's face at his comment was unnerving.

After a few seconds of silence, Doug broke it, grabbing Judy's arm. "You're not going anywhere."

"Says who? _You?_" she shot back.

"Yeah, me."

"Sorry, but in case you didn't hear me earlier, you aren't my boss."

"I can fix that." Penhall glowered at her, and as he stopped speaking, Ioki saw him nod his head slightly toward the pool area. He backed off as Doug pulled Hoffs toward the doorway, trailing silently behind Dennis.

The foursome congregated in the corner furthest from the doors leading into the main house, and Penhall was the first to speak. "Where do we stand?"

"I might as well be running a kissing booth, for all the guys I've locked lips with," Judy answered, exasperated. "And I think the bushes are sick of getting up close and personal with Harry."

"There isn't a part of my arm that's not scratched up," he mumbled, glancing at his bare arms. "This is getting ridiculous."

"She's still here, huh?" Dennis asked, his eyes flitting around the room.

Judy kept her face turned into Doug's shoulder. "Last time I saw her she was heading into the backyard." She raised a hand to stifle a yawn. "I'm exhausted, and I want to get some sleep, but I don't dare before she's gone to bed."

"Maybe she's sleeping out there?" Penhall asked. "The tents are set up… though how long they'll stay up, considering the most sober person out there could barely stand, is anybody's guess."

"No; they were all full," Dennis replied.

"I told Judy maybe we could rotate watch or something, make sure nobody gets too nosy," Harry offered. "Short of us taking off now, I don't think there's a better option."

"Probably not." Booker folded his arms across his chest. "I can take first; I'm not really tired. Ioki, I'll wake you up in a couple hours?"

"I can take third," Hoffs said. "I'll be fine after a little sleep."

Booker gave a thin smile and glanced at Doug. "Guess you're last, Penhall." There was an odd quality to his voice, and Harry realized this was the first time over the course of the night that Dennis had really made it clear he hadn't forgiven Doug for the scene in Fuller's office. Ioki decided that the veiled animosity made him a little nervous for the next day.


	15. Chapter 15

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**A/N:** You'll notice that the summary for this fic and the warning have been altered. That's because I've decided to take a plot line I'd originally intended to work into this story and spin it into a fic of its own. It'll take place directly after this story, but I'm going to write the prequel first. That way the necessary background for what will be the third story will actually be in place so I hopefully won't confuse myself or you guys. Well, anymore than I already have.

**island-of-corfu - **I have so much trouble with Ioki; glad to know I seem to be getting him right. The night itself won't be such a big deal; Tom's going to get a short reprieve. But it's what comes after that that matters. >whistles>

**Nina - **The groping _was_ necessary, from a certain point of view. ;-) She had to blend in with the crowd, y'know:-P As for Joanne, you'll see soon what's going on. And maybe a thing or two will start to fall into place - for everyone.

**daizia - **Oh, yeah, I know it doesn't make it okay. I was just trying to say, in response to your concern that the behavior might continue, that it very well might, considering all he's trying to deal with. Not that that means it will >whistles> As you know, I'm sure,I love Booker. And I hope that maybe by the end of this fic you like him a bit more too. And I'm so flattered you're reading despite disliking him. :-) I don't know how much Doug and Dennis being there will help >looks angelic> As for Ioki, he was just observing that Dennis still is pretty upset at Doug. Got it a bit backward ;-)

**Fanfic Fish - **Welcome back :) So, you want Dennis to get hurt? Well, be sure to read my note up above ;-) You'll (sort of) get your wish. Eventually ;-) I love that quote :-D

**godspeedandleather - **Thanks! Always glad to see a new reader :-D And here's more...

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Hanson attempted to roll over, groaning inwardly when he realized that his way was blocked by the sleeping form of Joanne Crisal. It took him a moment more before he realized that his arm was actually pinned between her and the mattress. Uttering a silent prayer that she'd had a few drinks after he'd turned in and would be too far gone to wake up at his movement, he painstakingly pulled away from her.

For a few almost heart-stopping seconds, she stirred and mumbled something, but then just nestled deeper into the blankets. Tom took his opportunity and slid out of bed, making a beeline for the door – after first checking to ensure he was still fully clothed.

He made his way into the living room, seeing Judy asleep, her head on Ioki's shoulder. The Vietnamese man, even in his sleep, had an arm protectively around her. If he didn't know them well enough to be sure Hoffs would shoot Harry before they could make it through one date, he might think there was something between them.

Of course, they'd acted the part enough times that it was almost second nature. Sort of like he and Doug as the McQuaids.

Penhall was in a chair by the door, keeping watch like the overbearing, obnoxious cousin he was supposed to be. He was probably the only other person on the property not asleep – or otherwise unconscious. Except for maybe Dennis, who was nowhere in sight.

Tom knelt down on the floor next to Doug, who didn't give him much more than a sideways glance. "Booker's letting Fuller know we're all still alive; we kind of forgot that part last night."

"I called in before I went to bed," Hanson replied dismissively. "How'd things go?" He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so awkward around his best friend.

Oh, wait. Yes, he could. The night he'd come out to him.

Penhall shrugged. "Their covers are still intact, I think. But I don't think it's going to last; that girl Trista is still here, and it's only a matter of time before one of them walks around the wrong corner and kablooey." Doug glanced over the students scattered around the room and shook his head. "Problem is, we're here more as backup than anything else. Hoffs and Ioki take off, and there's no reason for me and Dennis to be here, which would leave you on your own."

"Not such a good idea," Tom muttered. "There's something really wrong here, Doug." He wasn't entirely comfortable with relating to Penhall the exact nature of his encounters with Joanne this far, and hoped Doug would take his word for it.

He did. "No kidding." He reached down and took a sip from a can of soda Hanson hadn't noticed he had – probably the only non-alcoholic beverage left in the place – and then said, "I think we need to be ready to call in some patrolmen to break this up."

"How? You blow your and Dennis's covers, Judy's is gone too, and probably Harry's."

"Well, then, we'll have to not blow ours, won't we?"

"Doug—"

"We'll figure it out, Hanson. You just concentrate on keeping that girl off your back."

"It's not my back I'm worried about," Tom muttered dryly, just as Dennis came in.

Booker shot him a bemused look as he joined them, brushing a hand over Hanson's back. A second later, crouched beside Tom, his face was serious again. "I talked to Fuller; he's going to be waiting by the radio straight through until tonight in case we have to call in for backup; he can be here in ten minutes – probably beat some of the black-and-whites."

Tom raked a hand through his hair. "I've got a really bad feeling about this."

Dennis looked over at him, his eyes showing thinly veiled concern. "Yeah? Me too."

"Guys?"

Hanson glanced toward Penhall. "Yeah?"

"Our reason for being here is about two feet from the door."

Tom followed his gaze, then gave his boyfriend a shove. "Go distract her."

As Dennis rose, giving him a none-too-subtle glare, Tom moved to stand in front of Judy, waking the woman and pulling her to her feet at the same time. "Come on. Outside." He left Doug to get Ioki.

The foursome slipped out the door, sticking close to the house, Hanson and Penhall positioning themselves between the entrance and their coworkers. Tom leaned against the wall, shaking his head. "I think this case is making me glad to be gay. No offense, Jude."

She managed a sleepy smile. "None taken. Though—" she glanced toward Doug and then Harry, "why you'd want guys like these, I'll never know."

He made a face as the two other men glared at her. A second later, their glares were fixed on him. "Trust me, I don't."

Judy smirked. "That's reassuring."

-------------------------

Judy hid a laugh as Hanson downed what had to have been his sixth slice of pizza. Trying to stay a step ahead of Joanne had apparently worked up his appetite. "You're going to feel lousy later."

He washed it down with a long swig from a beer bottle – filled with water. While the girl had run off to keep some of her mother's precious roses from getting trampled, Hoffs had dumped out the alcohol and refilled it. "Nah."

"Right." She rolled her eyes and reached for her own drink, a hard lemonade with just enough booze for her not to seem out of place, but not enough to impair her mind. That was the _last_ thing she needed.

Hoffs had heard enough snatches of conversation to know that she was still dead set on carrying out her plans for Hanson, and had actually come to feel a little sorry for her – and more than a little afraid for Tom's safety. She was more or less convinced Joanne was seriously imbalanced, and this was no longer about keeping the object of her affection simply out of trouble.

Her mind had come up with about ten different scenarios as far as how this all might end, none of them good. She'd shared a couple with Harry, who'd agreed with her that things were more tenuous than they'd first believed, and buried the rest in the back of her mind. _Think positive, Judy._

She slid over close to Hanson, both to be in a better spot to talk to him and give herself a clearer view of the door. "You talk to Dennis at all?"

"Tried. But he wouldn't talk here."

"Well, you can't really fault him for that."

"I know." He looked over at her and she was reminded that Hanson's eyes were usually the most expressive part of him. Which was good, because he really wasn't one to talk much, though he'd gotten better about it lately – probably, she guessed, since he and Dennis had gotten together. "I know."

Judy gave his hand a gentle squeeze and changed the subject. "Y'know, I think it's driving him crazy, seeing Joanne all over you like that."

He smirked. "Good."

"You're bad."

Tom shrugged, draining the rest of his drink. "So is he."

Hoffs snickered at that, but nudged him a moment later. "Look alive, Tommy." Joanne was headed their way, and looked none-too-pleased about Hanson spending time with another girl.

She stopped in front of them, holding a hand down. "Come on, Tom. I got a friend to keep an eye on the party, so we can be alone for a while."

Warning bells went off in Judy's head, but she kept silent, watching Hanson closely to see how he'd respond. He sighed and didn't move. "Joanne—"

The girl shook her head. "I thought about what you said, and I just want to talk, hang out…" she trailed off and glanced around. "Mostly, I just want to sit down. My feet are killing me."

Something wasn't right here, but Judy couldn't put her finger on what. It was clear from Tom's face that he'd come to the same conclusion, but couldn't come up with a way out of the situation that wouldn't blow his cover. Neither could she, so she said, "Go on. I'll find Harry and maybe we can have some alone time of our own – as long as I can ditch those goons my dad sicced on me."

Joanne actually looked a bit sympathetic. "Your dad's a little strict, huh?"

Hoffs laughed out loud. "Honey, strict doesn't even be_gin_ to cover it. Y'know how they say if you give somebody enough rope they'll hang themselves?" When the other girl nodded, she went on. "He firmly believes in giving me just enough rope I choke myself when I go to the ladies room." Hanson snickered and Judy knew he'd be relaying that comment to Fuller the next time he saw him.

She stood up and brushed herself off. "Have fun, you two. I see my man right over there." Halfway to Ioki, she turned around and watched them disappear into the house, Joanne grabbing another couple beers as they went. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

-------------------------

"When was the last time you two saw Hanson?" Dennis tried to conceal his worry as he dropped down next to Hoffs and Ioki, though he had a feeling Judy could see right through him.

"Not since he and Joanne left. I thought you were watching the room?"

"I was, until some kid damn near went into convulsions. I couldn't ignore him – especially considering everybody else was." He scowled. "By the time he came back around, the door was open and nobody was in there."

"No one's left our way," Harry replied. "Did you ask Penhall if they went out back?"

"Yeah; he hasn't seen Tom _or_ Joanne."

"Well, then, he's got to be here somewhere. They both do." Judy went quiet. "Harry and I'll go around like we're looking for an open room. We'll start in the back of the house. Wait five minutes, and you and Doug can go around, pretending like you're looking for us. Start in the front, so we'll cover more ground and won't run into each other before we've checked everywhere. Give it another ten minutes, and meet back here."

"All right." Not that he was thrilled about looking for Hanson with Penhall, but… He left without another word, heading into the backyard to find Doug.

The man was right where he'd left him, leaning against a shed where he had a clear view of the main door. "They haven't seen him. They're going to check the back of the house, and in a few minutes we're going to start with the front, like we're trying to find Judy and Harry."

"You think Joanne did something to him?" Doug's voice was nothing if not concerned.

"Yeah. Judy said earlier she was acting really strangely."

"What could she have done, though? Hanson wasn't drunk, he's got about fifty pounds on her, and he's a trained police officer."

"If you're so sure she couldn't have done anything, why are you so worried?" Booker retorted. The man's concern was palpable.

Penhall didn't rise to the bait, just shook his head and looked past Dennis toward the house. An instant later, his expression changed. "About twenty feet straight behind you. Joanne. Alone." He kept his voice low, dropping the volume even more as a group of students moved in their direction.

"Let's go talk to her."

"Dennis, don't—"

"I'm not going to blow his cover or ours," he muttered. "Hey, Joanne!"

The girl looked up at him, a troubled look on her face. "Oh. Hi… Doug?"

"Dennis," he offered helpfully, forcing a bright smile. "Have you seen my cousin? Or her… boyfriend?"

"No, not for a couple hours."

He let his face fall. "Well, have you seen that other kid? Tom? Maybe he's seen them? I saw Judy talking to him earlier."

She shook her head, the strange expression she wore intensifying. "Last I saw him was about an hour ago."

He didn't believe her for a second, but had no grounds to call her on a lie and really wasn't willing to risk his cover for what would probably be nothing, so he simply thanked her and returned to Doug, relaying the conversation.

"Terrific."

"Yeah."

"Now what?"

"It's been five minutes. Let's go find Hoffs and Ioki."

-------------------------

Judy almost walked right into Dennis's chest, her mind was so occupied trying to figure out where else to look for their missing coworker. She glanced up when she felt his hand on her shoulder. "Any luck?"

"Nothing. We ran into Joanne, though; she says she hasn't seen him for an hour."

"Right." She bit her lip, then nodded her head toward the living room. "Let's get out of here, go someplace I can hear myself think." The music was giving her a headache.

Outside, Dennis spoke before she got a chance. He pushed a set of keys into her hand and said quickly, "You and Harry take my car. Radio the cops and hang out until most of the kids are gone."

"What are you two going to do?" Harry asked.

Dennis winked, though he didn't smile. "Probably get arrested."

"As soon as it's clear, we'll get the uniforms looking for Hanson," Doug said. "And make sure they know who to pick up for this thing." He waved a hand toward the house.

Judy palmed the keys and cast one more quick glance toward Dennis before nodding and taking off, Harry half a step behind her.


	16. Chapter 16

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm in the middle of a busy time at work so I'm not going to be updating quite as regularly for a bit. Hopefully, though, I'll get back on schedule reasonably quickly.

**Sphinx the Minx - **I saw it first as reruns too, and fell in love immediately. Glad you like it; there's certainly a marked absense of JS slash around the net.

**daizia - **Well, you're about to find out what Joanne did. But here's a hint for things to come- she wasn't lying about not seeing him for an hour. Just remember, it'd been _two_ hours since the others saw him. ;-)

**Island-of-corfu - **I wrote, I wrote :-P I know I'm cruel and I just love to be :-D Soooo, Joanne as a mysterious evil spectre, huh? Interesting... >laughs evilly>

**godspeedandleather - **:-D Here's more for you :-)

**Nina - **You're right about her plans going wrong ;-) As for whether it's good for Tom... possibly. :-P You'll have to read and see :-) Of course they're going to pull together. I mean, it was _Hanson_ who was in trouble, after all. :-P The question is, were it Dennis who was in trouble, what would have happened? There will definitely be the prequel, and at least two sequels are being planned for. Only problem for most of y'all is that they're pretty Booker-centric, though Hanson of course has a very large role ;-)

**Fanfic Fish - **No, no compassion at all :-P I love making people wait. Hopefully you won't have to wait quite so long for the next update.

**ztrange - **:-P Here's more for you. Hope you were able to concentrate at least a little in my absence

* * *

**Chapter 16**

The second police sirens split the air, Joanne's guests went crazy. Penhall and Booker just leaned against the house as several cruisers pulled in – far more than would normally have come to break up a high school party, even one as large as Joanne's. Dennis wondered how much information Hoffs had managed to give them.

To his surprise, Joanne didn't run. She stood in the open doorway as the officers climbed out of their vehicles, then walked down to meet them. Out of the corner of his eye, Dennis saw Doug take a step forward, but caught his arm and held him back. "Wait and see; it's better if they arrest her without us getting involved. We can always tell them later to hold onto her until we find Tom."

Sure enough, a moment later Joanne was being led toward the nearest squad car. She didn't look the least bit bothered by the situation, and didn't give the house a second glance. The vacant expression on her face sent a chill down Dennis's spine.

It wasn't long before two officers approached him and Penhall. "Let's go, gentlemen. Party's over."

"Not exactly." Dennis reached for his badge, only to freeze as the cop standing nearest him went for his gun. "Whoa, cool off." He glanced toward Doug. "Guess Hoffs didn't manage to tell them much."

"You think?" Penhall retorted, rolling his eyes. "Hey, look. Fuller."

The officers in front of them exchanged confused looks, clearly not aware of the situation, and growing more annoyed by the second. Dennis took pity on them and, in a low voice, explained, "We're undercover cops. I was reaching for my badge before you got a little trigger happy there." He jerked his head toward their approaching Captain. "He's our supervisor. Adam Fuller."

The Captain had reached them before the officers had a chance to respond or demand their identification. "What's the situation, fellas?"

"None of us have seen Hanson in the last two and a half hours," Doug replied. "He'd been talking to Judy, then went into the house with Crisal – the girl your buddies just put in the squad car," he added, turning to the two uniformed cops, "and nobody's seen him since. Between the four of us we checked most of the house, couldn't find him."

"We couldn't look _everywhere_ but came damn close," Dennis put in. "Thing is, Joanne's been wandering around the last hour or so."

"What kind of shape was he in when he left Hoffs?" Fuller asked.

"Fine. He'd had one drink about two hours before. The four of us had been running interference. Crisal was probably starting to wonder why he was still walking straight."

"Would someone like to tell me what's going on?" A police lieutenant had approached, unnoticed by any of them, and didn't look pleased.

Fuller flashed his badge at him. "Captain Adam Fuller, Jump Street. I had five undercover officers here on assignment. Two of them should be back soon; they're the ones who radioed this in. These are two more, and we've got one missing. That's the reason you were called; we need to do a full search of the property."

Before the lieutenant could reply, an officer who looked young enough to be part of the Jump Street program interrupted. "Sir, Blakeney just called for an ambulance. We got a guy passed out in one of the bedrooms; looks like alcohol poisoning."

Dennis stepped around the cop standing next to him and grabbed the man's arm. "What'd he look like?"

"Brown hair, not too tall, slim build; good looking kid, actually."

"It's not alcohol poisoning," Booker said quickly, struggling to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. "Which room?"

"In the back. Look's like the girl's room."

Dennis didn't say another word, just took off toward the door, knowing Fuller and Penhall would be following behind him. He flashed his badge at the couple of officers who tried to stop him, otherwise having no difficulty reaching his boyfriend.

Tom was sprawled on the floor on the opposite side of the bed from the doorway, half underneath it; he certainly hadn't ended up there on his own. There was a beer bottle about a quarter empty sitting on the table next to the bed, and a few empties scattered on the floor.

Hesitantly, Dennis knelt down next to the unconscious man, pressing his fingertips to his throat. He found his pulse easily, weak but steady, then ran a hand lightly over his forehead and back through his hair, lifting his head gently, checking for any bumps or gashes, knowing the other officers had probably already done the same. Finding nothing, and feeling a hand on his shoulder, he rose slowly and turned around. Hoffs and Ioki had come in, and Judy was the one who'd gotten his attention.

"The ambulance is here, Dennis," she said quietly. "Come on; give them some space." Judy took his arm and pulled gently, leading him out of the way as two EMTs came into the room, bringing a stretcher with them. Dennis watched as they checked his vitals and slipped an oxygen mask over his face, then lifted him carefully, strapping him to the stretcher. The whole Jump Street team followed as it was wheeled out to the ambulance.

Just outside, Dennis jumped when Fuller caught his arm. "Go with him; Hoffs can drive your car and we'll meet you there." Booker was a little surprised by the compassion in the man's voice, though he wasn't sure he ought to have been. He nodded gratefully, then headed toward the ambulance.

-------------------------

"We need to give HQ a reason to hold Joanne Crisal by tonight or they're releasing her; her mother and stepfather are flying back specifically to give the chief hell about the whole damn thing." Fuller didn't look pleased.

"Until Hanson wakes up, we've got nothing, Captain," Judy said. "They have to give us more time than that."

The Captain started to reply but broke off suddenly, and she turned to see a doctor approach. "I'm Greg Neill. I understand you're all here for Thomas Hanson?"

"Yes." It was the first word Dennis had said since they'd reached the hospital. He hadn't done more than shrug in response to their inquiries as to Hanson's condition on the ride over.

"He hasn't regained consciousness, but he should in short order. He was given a rather high dosage of Flunitrazepam."

"Fluti-what?" Penhall replied, a confused frown on his face, and Hoffs stifled a laugh, though it really wasn't that funny.

"Flunitrazepam," Neill corrected him, a ghost of a smile on his face. "I would imagine you're more familiar with the name Rohypnol?"

Judy's eyes went wide. "Roofies."

"She slipped him a date rape drug?" Doug's voice dripped with incredulity.

The doctor shook his head. "Not _a_ drug. Two or three at least. If I had to guess, I'd imagine that whoever it was who administered it underestimated the strength of the substance, perhaps assumed that a single dose wouldn't sufficiently affect a man." He paused. "Either that, or he or she was trying to kill him."

The last words sent a chill down Judy's spine that only worsened with Harry asked, "Could it have?"

"If he'd been intoxicated at the time he ingested the drug, and if a higher quantity had been administered, yes. However, there was next to no alcohol in his system, and the quantity doesn't appear to have been sufficient for permanent damage. However, he'll not likely remember anything from the time the flunitrazepam's effects set in."

"How much longer until he regains consciousness?" Booker was watching the man intently, and the doctor seemed to notice.

"I can only guess at this point, but I'd think around an hour. You're welcome to sit with him, as long as there are no more than two visitors in the room at a time."

"Thank you, doctor." Judy forced a smile she didn't feel, and Neill left them a moment later. To her coworkers she said simply, "I don't believe this."

"What now?" Dennis asked quietly.

Ioki nodded. "Yeah, Captain. Is this enough to have HQ hold Joanne?"

Fuller was silent for a while before finally shaking his head. "No. Not unless Hanson can tell us something useful when he comes to, which, from the sound of it, he probably won't be able to. It was a party; those drugs are more common than we'd like to think. DA'll tell us that the defense can claim it was an accident, that someone else did it… just about anything."

Judy sighed. "Captain, you know it was her."

"I do. But there's no proof."

"So, what then?" Doug asked. "You're gonna just keep him on the case?"

"If he feels up to it." Fuller paused. "Pull him out and we lose the chance to nail her for this, and we lose the chance to find out who killed the girl."

"And all along Hanson's been sayin' he thinks it's her. Now she either tried to date rape him or kill him!" Penhall exclaimed.

"Doug, keep your voice down," Judy scolded him, dropping her own down a notch as a few people glanced their way.

"Keep…" he growled. "This keeps up, he's gonna get killed!"

The Captain actually stepped between them at that. "Guys, we'll deal with where to go from here once Hanson comes around and we see how much we actually know. He may not remember what went on after he was drugged, but he might remember what led up to it, which may be enough."

-------------------------

Dennis leaned forward in his chair, reaching toward the bed to take his boyfriend's hand. He hadn't said much out in the waiting room; he hadn't felt like there was much he _could_ say. His mind kept replaying the conversation he and Tom had had about the party, about how Tom could get Joanne off his back about sleeping with her, and he couldn't help but feel as if she'd drugged him because of that.

On the bed, Tom stirred slightly, and Booker watched his eyelids flutter, finally opening. He blinked a few times, then turned his head slightly. "Dennis?" His voice was a little slurred and he didn't sound like he was entirely… _there_.

"Hey, babe." Dennis rose, leaning over and brushing his lips against Hanson's. "How're you feeling?"

"Drunk," Tom replied. "Am I?"

Booker shook his head as he sat back down. "Drugged. Rohypnol."

It took Hanson a while to process the meaning in his words. He didn't answer right away, and when he did, the confusion in his eyes was evident. "I don't remember."

"Doctor said you probably wouldn't."

Only then did Tom seem to notice his surroundings. "Hospital?"

Dennis nodded. "Yeah. When we realized nobody'd seen you for a couple hours, we all split up and searched Joanne's house. Couldn't find you, so Hoffs and Ioki took off and radioed for backup. Uniforms broke the party up and a couple of their guys found you passed out in her bedroom."

An alarmed look crossed his lover's face. "What—"

Dennis understood immediately where the other man's mind had gone. "Nothing happened." He ran a thumb over the back of Tom's hand, then squeezed it gently. "Doc said whoever drugged you gave you too much – two or three pills, when one should've done the trick."

"Why?"

"We were kinda hoping you'd be able to tell us that," Dennis replied. "Everybody's pretty sure it was Joanne, but there's no proof, and Fuller isn't really sure what to do next."

"Huh?" His voice sounded a little clearer, but apparently his brain function wasn't quite catching up.

"If Joanne did this," Booker waved a hand over the bed, "then keeping you on the case may not be the best idea. And Penhall damn near went through the roof when Fuller said he'll keep you in if you think you can handle it."

The glassy look in his boyfriend's eyes was starting to dissipate, too. "Typical."

"He's just worried about you."

"Yeah, well, I'm a big boy."

"I'm worried too."

"This isn't your fault."

"Isn't it? If you hadn't told her that—"

"Even if I hadn't given her that specific excuse, I still wouldn't have slept with her and she'd still have gone off the deep end." Obviously, his mind was becoming somewhat more lucid. "It's not your fault. I'm a big boy; I can handle myself." Tom paused. "And I'm not letting Fuller pull me off the case."

"Tom—"

"No." The smaller man shook his head stubbornly. "I put too much time into this to walk away. Besides, now it's kind of personal."

"Exactly why you shouldn't be involved anymore."

"If I get pulled off, then just about all the work we did goes down the drain. We'll never find out what really happened to Leslie, and nothing will happen to Joanne. She's got some serious problems, Dennis, and if we drop this now, she's not going to get help until someone else gets hurt."

When he put it that way, Booker couldn't really argue – which was, he knew, exactly what Hanson had counted on. "You win. But you still have to convince Fuller." Though Fuller would say the exact same thing.

"Fuller'll say the same thing." Dennis glared at him, and Tom smirked, though the effect was ruined somewhat when he yawned and shook his head. "I really feel lousy."

"Drug probably hasn't worn off quite yet. I'll go get the doctor." He probably should have gone to get him as soon as Tom woke up, but… oh well. He started to stand, but sat back down when his boyfriend's grip on his hand tightened.

"Stay here? Just a little longer?"

Torn between letting Neill know Tom was awake and doing what his lover asked, Dennis finally nodded. "All right. Try to rest, though."

"Kay." It wasn't long before Hanson drifted off once again, and Booker left to find the doctor.


	17. Chapter 17

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content),child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**A/N: **I'm not real fond of how this chapter ends, but I reached a block so I said to hell with it. Hope you like anyway.

**godspeedandleather - **Well, here's more for you :-D

**Fanfic Fish - **See, I think Dennis really _is_ a softie deep down, so :-P As for Hanson being taken off the case, well, yeah, he should, but... >evil grin>

**daizia - **Well, you'll see about Joanne when all is said and done, I promise. And you're right about him staying on if he wants to ;-) There'll be more scenes between the two of them similar to that.

**Sphinx - **Joanne's probably too far out there to notice ;-) Hope you're feeling better

**Nina - **Poor Hanson, naughty Joanne, and hypocrite Booker. Yep, that just about covers it ;-) Yep, there'll be problems with Penhall - sometimes, though, his concerns may be founded. I promise Hanson will have a big role, and I'm consciously looking for plot ideas to center just around him, so... if you have ideas, let me know :-D

**Caerulea - **I love you:-P I love Booker; he rocks. You got his character to a tee, there. Glad to see someone else who likes him as much as me. And I'm glad you like the story!

**redrose2310 - **Thanks! Here's more

**island-of-corfu - **Well, there's _plenty _more where this came from, I promise. As for more Tom/Booker scenes - that can be arranged :-D

* * *

**Chapter 17**

"Officer Hanson, I'm going to clear you for release on the condition that you see your doctor immediately if the dizziness continues after tonight." Doctor Neill wore a stern expression and Tom actually flinched a little. "And I want you to avoid taking any medications for the next forty-eight hours. You reacted very strongly to the drug, and I'd rather not see you back here because Tylenol interacted with what little is still tracing through your bloodstream."

Unable to resist, Hanson snapped off a salute. "Yes, sir."

"I'll be glad to see you leave," Neill replied wryly. "Miserable patient."

"I do my best."

"Just do your best not to come back in here."

"He will," Dennis interrupted, and, under his glare, Tom didn't say another word until the man had departed. Even then, Booker spoke first. "You will."

"I'm fine."

"Shut up."

"No."

"Yes."

Tom shut his mouth for all of thirty seconds, before asking, "How long do you think it'll take for him to sign the paperwork to get me out of here?"

"Longer than I can stand to be in this room with you," his boyfriend answered. "You're driving me insane, and you've only been awake three hours."

"I'm bored."

"I'll go get Penhall and the two of you can play with blocks or something."

It took Tom a minute to grasp that Dennis was essentially lambasting him for being childish, but when it clicked in his brain, he glared at him. "I hate hospitals."

"I noticed," Dennis remarked dryly. "Even before you told me the first, tenth, and thirtieth times."

There was a knock at the door about half a second before it opened. "Everybody decent?" Judy called.

"No, but come in anyway," Booker responded, only to have Judy throw something at him as she came fully into the room. It turned out to be a canvas backpack.

"Give your boyfriend his clothes."

For a moment Hanson wondered if his mind wasn't still a little foggy. "Why do you have my clothes, Jude?"

"Because the ones you came into the hospital with reeked of beer. You probably knocked over a bottle when you fell. I didn't figure you'd want to wear them home, so I pick pocketed Dennis for your keys and stopped at your place. I figured Booker would want to stay here. Hope you don't mind."

He grinned. "Just so long as you didn't go digging through my underwear drawer."

Hoffs made a face. "No thanks. Just grabbed the pair on top. And about anything that was on your bathroom sink. I wasn't sure how long they'd be keeping you here, so you've got your toothbrush and stuff too."

"Thanks, Jude." As she came over, he straightened a bit and gave her a quick hug.

"No problem." She tilted her head to the side and looked him over. "When _are_ they letting you out of here, anyway?"

"Tonight. Thank God." Hanson shot his boyfriend an annoyed look, and heightened the glare as he went on. "Hoffs, I swear, the next time you need to get someone to talk, just hit lock them in a hospital room with him for an hour or two. The guy'll sing like a canary." At the cliché, Tom broke his gaze and laughed out loud.

"Sing like a canary?" he quoted back. "Did we walk into a 1920's mob movie and I missed the entrance?"

"Let's try something," Dennis said, suddenly sounding weary. "You stop talking for a while and we'll see if my head stops pounding." To Judy he went on, "I'm starting to wish _I_ was the one who was drugged."

"I'll trade places. Gladly." Tom scowled at him, but when Dennis didn't even smile, he quieted. "You okay?"

"Just a bad headache." His boyfriend gave him a pointed look. "Probably _stress_." There was something else in his eyes, though, that bothered Tom. He didn't have a chance to pursue the issue, though, as Neill came back in.

"You're a free man, Officer Hanson. As long as you get some rest."

"He will," Dennis answered before Tom could.

"Yes, mother."

"Boys, boys, boys." Hoffs moved to stand between them. "Behave yourselves." To the doctor she said, "I think your patient has gotten a little stir-crazy. So it's okay to take him home?"

"By all means."

At that, Judy took the bag that Dennis was still holding and threw it to Tom. "Get dressed."

-------------------------

"Let's go to your place."

Dennis automatically took the turn toward his apartment and away from Tom's before asking, "Why?"

"Because if we go to mine, you're going to glare at me until I go to bed. You won't do that at yours."

Booker cast a sidelong glance at him. "Want to bet?"

"Sure. But you know I'm right."

He was. "You're annoying."

"I know. I'm also tired and hungry."

Drawing the car to a stop at a red light, Dennis glanced over at him. "Drug wear off?"

"Mostly." Tom shrugged. "Get a bit dizzy here and there is all." Booker watched him out of the corner of his eye as he started driving again. "How you feeling? How's your head?"

"Be better when I get home and have a beer," he answered shortly.

"What's up?"

"Just not looking forward to tomorrow."

"What—shit."

Dennis pulled to a stop on the street in front of his apartment and turned off the car. "Yeah." He got out, grabbing Tom's bag before the other man could, and closed the door. "And I'm tired. I didn't even really sleep last night." Meeting Tom on the sidewalk, he ran a hand over his boyfriend's back before preceding him up to the door and opening it. "I just want to eat, and go to bed."

In his loft, Dennis left the backpack on the floor by the door and switched on the light. "You care what we eat?"

"As long as it doesn't come on a hospital tray, I'm happy."

Booker gave a short laugh, then headed for the kitchen as Hanson dropped onto the couch. His foot had just hit the linoleum when there was a knock at the door. He stopped mid-stride and turned around, rolling his eyes. "Coming!"

His boyfriend eyed him, amused. "I could have gotten that."

"And, look, you didn't even move," he replied pointedly, unlocking and opening the door. His eyes went wide as he saw who was standing in the hall. "Mom."

"Hello, Dennis. I, ah, was on my way home and I thought I'd stop in and see if you were home."

"Well, I am." He paused and stepped back. "Come on in." As she came in, he closed the door behind her.

"I think I'll, ah, go lie down or something," Tom said, standing slowly.

"No, Tom." At her words, Hanson sank back down. "I won't be long. I just wanted to say what I didn't get a chance to the other night." She glanced pointedly back toward Dennis, but he didn't give her the satisfaction of reacting at all.

Instead, he asked simply, "What was that?"

"That I don't care." She shook her head. "What I started to say – what upset you so much – was that your father and I had always wanted to have more children, and when we didn't, your dad became determined that you'd have a son to carry on his name. I'm not sure how, exactly, he thought he'd have any control over that, but…" she trailed off and shook her head once more. "Dennis, I don't care. You're my son, and all I really want is for you to be happy. If being with Tom is what you want, I'm happy for you."

For a moment, Booker couldn't do much more than blink, giving time for her words to register with his tired mind. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Tom for help, but the other man just shrugged, so he returned his attention to his mother. "Thanks. I, uh, I'm sorry I snapped at you the other night. A lot going on and…" He gave up. "Thanks. About dad…"

"Dennis, if he were here, he'd be happy for you too."

"Yeah, well, I'm not so sure about that."

"Dennis—"

"Forget it." With everything that had happened in the last few days, and his meeting with Greene tomorrow, he wasn't in the mood to talk about his father. "Doesn't matter anyway, right?"

She was quiet for a second. "I suppose not." The apartment fell into an awkward silence until she spoke again. "I should be going. I just wanted to tell you…"

"Yeah, we need to eat and get some sleep." He appreciated his mother coming and all, but really didn't feel up to dealing with the whole situation – no matter how nice and understanding she was being. Though it might be preferable to the conversation he _knew_ he and Tom would be having once she left…

"Yes, you look like you need it." Hesitantly, she raised a hand and rested it on his shoulder for just a second, before moving it to the doorknob. "Good night Tom, Dennis."

"Night."

"Night, mom."

As she left, Dennis started to head back to the kitchen, only to have Tom grab his arm and pull him down onto the couch. "You all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't know," Hanson replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Would you like me to make a list?"

"Tom—"

"Dennis—"

Booker glared at him briefly, then sighed. "Fine. What?"

Tom was quiet for a moment before he answered. "Tell me why you acted like that about your dad?"

"Acted like what? I didn't do anything!"

"Not tonight. Thursday, at your mom's place."

"Oh. That."

"Yeah, that." Hanson slid sideways a bit, clearing more space for Dennis between him and the arm of the couch. "What upset you that much?"

"Just… I know what he'd say. I tried to tell him, back…" he trailed off. "Well, I tried to talk to him about it, not so much tell him."

"When?"

"After… after everything… everything with Schenck. Even before that happened, I was starting to realize that I, uh…" He stopped and took a deep breath. "I mean, I was only thirteen, but I was starting to figure things out. And then Schenck… and I think he started to figure it out too… some of the things he said to me…. After it was all over, I tried to talk to my dad about it. With everything that happened, I was pretty screwed up, and I was really confused. But every time I brought anything up, he'd go off about how gays were disgusting fags and perverts and… pretty much didn't deserve to live." He sighed. "When I finally figured everything out for myself… junior year of high school or so, I was glad dad wasn't around."

"You really think he'd feel that way about you being gay?"

"Yeah, I do." Unconsciously, he hugged his arms to his chest. "You don't know my dad, Tom."

"Tell me about him."

"He never said things he didn't mean. He was the most… controlled, I guess, person I've ever met, except with me. With me, sometimes with mom but not as much, he'd lose his temper a lot, over nothing."

"So you said." Dennis shot his boyfriend a questioning look, but Tom just shrugged it off. "Never mind."

"No, what?"

"Friday… when you told me the whole story, you mentioned a little about your dad."

"Oh." He had a vague recollection of what little he'd said during their conversation, and realized he'd probably given Tom a less-than-accurate image of his father. "He wasn't usually like that. I mean, he'd yell and all, but didn't usually get… physical unless I really deserved it. I don't know what his problem was then; I figure it probably had to do with whatever made him leave."

"Sure."

"I mean it, Tom. He was a good guy… more or less. He just – he had to let go somewhere, and it ended up being with us. Couldn't really be anywhere else."

"How do you mean?"

Dennis took a long time in answering; for the first time that he could remember, he was really uncertain about telling his boyfriend something. "Tom, promise me you won't say anything."

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Yes."

Hanson was clearly taken aback by his response, but nodded. "Of course I promise." He shook his head. "Babe—"

"My dad was in the mob, Tom."

His lover's reaction was more or less what he'd expected – dead silence, wide eyes, slightly stunned expression. "Wow," he finally managed. "I can safely say that that never occurred to me."

"I didn't figure it would've." He picked up the television remote off the table and toyed with it. "He was a good guy, Tommy. I miss him, y'know? I'm pissed as fuck at him sometimes, but…"

"It's understandable."

Dennis pulled the battery cover off the back of the remote, then replaced it, and repeated the movement, not stopping until Tom reached over, covering his hand with his own.

"Babe?"

"Nobody's heard from him in ten years." His voice sounded so soft to his own ears that he wondered for a second if Tom could even hear him. "I remember going with my mom to city hall the day he was declared legally dead."

His boyfriend's eyes went wide. "I didn't realize—"

"When he left, he didn't take anything with him. He just… disappeared. No trace. The investigation was closed after a couple weeks. Nobody gave a shit about a two-bit mobster who was probably at the bottom of the river. Seven years go by…" he trailed off and shrugged.

Tom didn't seem to have a reply to that, so they sat quietly for what felt like hours, but it ended up being him who broke the silence. "That part of why you think your dad killed Schenck?"

"Yeah." Booker leaned back against the couch and glanced toward the ceiling. "What's it say about me that I don't care?"

"That you're human. Dennis, you were a kid. The guy'd been molesting you for months. Do you really think anyone would expect you to cry over him dying?"

"Difference between not caring that he's dead and not caring that my dad killed him."

Tom _really_ didn't have a reply to that, and in the end Dennis brought the conversation to a close when he headed to the kitchen, less for food and more to escape – and for a drink to calm his nerves about tomorrow.


	18. Chapter 18

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content),child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**RedRose - **Here you go :) Sorry it took so long. Got busy with real life :(

**Fanfic Fish - **Glad you liked it. I always enjoy writing powerful scenes... I love the intensity - I feel it even when I write, y'know? And Dennis will find his mother's feelings on the stituation to be very important rather soon...

**Nina - **Strained, definitely. And I see Booker as getting sort of hostile when he's upset, especially about something so personal. Caught the drinking thing, did you? >whistles innocently> And you're right, it's all very, very intertwined...

**Daizia - **Well, Dennis will need his mother's support soon. I won't tell you why :-P As for his dad, well, that will all come into play at a much later time >whistles> I love to toss in little details here and there, and it's nice to see people notice them :) As for Tom needing to be there for Dennis, yeah, definitely >evil grin>

**island-of-corfu - **It's fun to write the guys together, both in serious situations like the end of the chapter and the more lighthearted moments like the beginning. There was so much humor in the show, it needs to be present in any story written about these guys.

**head in the cloud - **Thanks! I'm really glad you like it, especially considering your preconceived thoughts about the whole thing. :) Their friends' attitudes will continue to play a major role for a while, too. :)

* * *

**Chapter 18**

"I'm fine. Really." Hanson sat down in one of the chairs in front of Fuller's desk. "No lasting effects of the drug – except not remembering anything from while I was on it. I'm fine. Even the doctor said so."

"The doctor wanted you the hell out of the hospital," the Captain retorted.

"Well… yeah," Tom admitted. "But he wouldn't have said I was okay if I wasn't. Coach, I'm fine, and I want to finish this case."

"I don't know how good an idea that is, Hanson. Having you in is looking like a risk I don't know we should be taking."

"I can handle it."

"Hanson, we had _five_ officers at that house, and it _still_ ended up with you being taken to the hospital in an ambulance. Just when are you going to start handling it?" The words were harsh, but the tone of the older man's voice kept them from being the rebuke they otherwise might have been.

"Coach, I'm _sure_ Joanne knows why her sister is dead, and if you pull me out now, we're never going to find out. And—" Tom broke off, trying to sort his thoughts out in his head before giving voice to them.

"And what?" Fuller crossed his arms and looked him in the eye.

"And… I think Joanne's got some serious problems, and if you pull me out now and we don't find out who killed Leslie, she's not going to get help."

"Serious problems how?"

Tom drummed his fingers on the desk, thinking over his words. "I think she's unbalanced. I don't want to sound like a jerk, but she developed this weird sort of obsession with me over the course of a couple hours. I don't know, it just seems like she'll do whatever to get her way, and she doesn't quite get that what she does is wrong."

Fuller frowned. "Hanson, if you're right, this case goes down the drain with an insanity plea."

"Does that matter?" Tom met his eyes. "I really think she needs help, Coach, and if that means she goes to a hospital instead of jail, then… well, good."

The older officer looked thoughtful. "You feel that strongly about it?"

"Yeah." Hanson gave a short nod. "I don't know what her problem is, really – what's going on in her head – but I think she needs help." He couldn't help but think about Diane, and Christine. He and Dennis had a habit of running into these kind of headcases.

"All right. I'm going to keep you in for now, on one condition – whether she's crazy or not, she's dangerous, and I'm not sure which one is worse. Be careful. Keeping your cover intact isn't worth getting yourself killed. This case isn't worth getting yourself killed."

Tom rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "Got it, coach."

As he stood up, Fuller gave him a searching glance. "Everything all right, Hanson?"

"Just got a bad feeling about this afternoon, with Greene." He hesitated, thinking that Dennis might kill him for this. "Booker's armed."

"So Penhall said." The Captain folded his arms across his chest. "He tell you why?"

"Just that he had a—"

"Bad feeling," Fuller finished for him. "Yeah. That's all anybody ever has around here lately."

Hanson shrugged. "A couple of tough cases, coach." That was putting it mildly. "We can't be bouncing around here throwing paper airplanes at each other all the time."

"Thank God for small favors," he replied. "Get out of here, Hanson, and get some rest. Something tells me you're going to need it this week."

-------------------------

Completely absorbed in methodically picking apart one of the slices of bread in his sandwich, Dennis didn't bother to look up as Penhall sat down across from him. "You, uh, you holding up okay?"

"Fine." He tore the crust off and popped it into his mouth, then opened his milk carton, taking a long drink. The last thing he wanted was to deal with Penhall.

Actually, the _last_ thing he wanted was for Penhall to know. But there wasn't much he could do about that now.

"You know, Fuller… he wants me outside, listening. He seems kinda worried, you know, about…"

"About what?" Dennis finally raised his eyes. When Doug didn't answer, he asked again. "About what?"

"Well, um, I guess…" He hesitated. "I think Fuller's maybe… a little worried you'll… you know, let it go too far… or something."

Booker blinked, surprised that Penhall had had the guts to say it – though his surprise wasn't enough to outweigh the aggravation. "Right, because I want to spend my afternoon getting pawed by that creep. No thanks."

"Booker—"

"Last I knew, Penhall, I was still a cop. I think I can handle Greene."

"Yeah, I mean, of course you can handle it. I guess they're just worried, y'know, considering…"

Dennis's eyes narrowed. "_They're_ worried? Who's worried, Penhall?" He suspected, however, that he already knew the answer.

"Well, everybody. I mean, you kinda surprised us all when—"

"Who, Penhall?"

While it was still clear Doug didn't _want_ to tell him, it was equally clear he was going to. "Fuller… and Hanson."

It was the answer he'd expected, but bothered him even more than he'd thought. "Tom told you that?"

Doug shrugged. "No. He didn't have to, though. When he came back into Fuller's office after he talked to you, it was pretty obvious."

Booker scowled, then pushed back his chair and stood. He was halfway to the cafeteria exit before he stopped and turned around. "I can handle, it Penhall. _Don't_ interfere."

As he walked out, he momentarily slipped his hand into his jacket, resting it on the butt of his revolver. He _could_ handle it – and he would.

-------------------------

Today, Greene's class was last period, and Booker was glad. He wasn't sure he could face the man, then have to leave and come back. He wasn't sure he'd _come_ back if that were the case.

But it wasn't, and he was sitting in a chair in the third row of Greene's class, staring at the clock and wishing it would skip right to 3:30 and he could be out of here and home, on the couch, with a beer in his hand – and a few under his belt – watching Monday night football.

"And that brings us to your next essay assignment." The announcement was met with groans – including one from Dennis. As Greene walked through the rows handing out printed sheets with the instructions, he elaborated. "You're to write a five-page paper addressing one major impact that the atmosphere and events of the 1960s had on the long-term political atmosphere and direction of the United States. You should have three sources, no more than two quotations per page, and should utilize notes from our class discussions. You have three weeks."

Dennis spent the rest of the class period folding the sheet into smaller and smaller squares, then unfolding it all the way, and repeating. Right before the bell rang, he shoved it into his notebook, and as the students packed up, leaving their desks and muttering to each other about the horrible assignment and how they didn't have any idea when they'd get it done, he stayed right where he was.

It was several minutes between when the room had finally emptied and when Greene spoke to him. "Dennis, why don't you move up here?"

Slowly, he gathered his things up and relocated, dropping them onto a desk right in front of Greene's. He sat down, and when Greene told him to turn to the first chapter, did so wordlessly. It was another minute or two before the teacher spoke again.

He got out of his chair, headed for the door and locked it, then returned and knelt down next to Dennis. "Now, tell me honestly, how much of the book you've actually read."

Dennis glared at the text, feigning frustration with it. "_All_ of it – to where we are now, anyway."

"So what's the problem? What are you having the most trouble with?"

"All of it. I can memorize the dates but it's… it's stuff like the paper you just gave us, y'know?"

"So, actually understanding how everything fits together is where the difficulty is." He frowned. "Let's start with the paper topic. The sixties – the era of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. The protests against the Vietnam War, and free love. What do the two have in common?"

"Make love not war?" Dennis asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well… yes, that's one way of looking at it, and that's more or less what I was getting at. But there's something more, less social and more political, if you will."

Booker just gave him a blank look, and the man sighed. "It… the sixties were about throwing off authority and rules, in a way. If the government _hadn't_ gotten involved in Vietnam, there probably would have been protests against their inaction."

It was an interesting point, though Dennis doubted the validity of it. "I don't know…"

"Dennis, how well do you normally do in school?"

"I get by."

At that, Greene made his first move. He rested a hand on Dennis's knee. "Tests and papers and classes are just naturally difficult for some people. And, sometimes, those people just struggle through. Others… find different ways." He stood slowly and moved behind Booker, and when his hands rested on his shoulders, Dennis was no longer twenty-three and a cop. He was thirteen again, and scared to death.

-------------------------

When the final bell rang, Doug positioned himself just outside the door, moving away slightly when he heard the door close. After a moment, he moved back – and stayed there for all of forty-five seconds.

A student – one of the boys who'd accused Greene of propositioning him – came tearing down the hall, yelling for anyone who would listen. Doug stepped away from the wall and caught his arm, shaking the boy and asking him what had happened. After two or three tries, he managed to grasp that someone had been hit by a car in the parking lot.

Glancing at the closed classroom door, unable to see Booker or Greene, he sighed and made a quick decision. Uttering a silently apology, he followed the boy outside.

-------------------------

Booker stared at the chapter title, fighting to keep his mind focused on the present, instead of the images that overwhelmed his mind. "What… what… different… ways?" He prayed his voice sounded more steady to Greene than it did to him, unlikely though that was.

"Other, non-academic ways, Dennis." With those words, Greene mimicked almost to the letter what Schenck had done to him years before. His hands slid down Dennis's chest, down inside his shirt. "You're a good-looking boy, Dennis. I _like_ good-looking boys."

His heart pounding up into his throat, Booker struggled to maintain his breathing. "What… what do you…"

Greene's answer was to move from behind Dennis to beside him, and to relocate his hands to rest on his thigh, and that movement was enough. Booker was on his feet so quickly the chair fell back, hitting the floor with a crash that should have brought Penhall running. He grabbed the man's wrist, shoving him backward and up against the wall, pinning him, his forearm across the man's throat. With his left hand, he yanked his badge from his pocket. "You're under arrest, pal."

Before he could say another word, he heard the door open and shut behind him. "About damn time, Pen—"

He broke off when he glanced over his shoulder and saw Adler standing on the opposite side of the room, gun extended, held by a shaky hand.

Greene took advantage of his momentary surprise to shove him back and move away, but he halted a moment later when Booker managed to draw. "Freeze!"

They stood in silence for a moment, Greene not daring to move with two guns trained on him, one held by a desperate boy and the other by a trained, and angry, adult man. Dennis finally spoke, when Adler started to advance on Greene. "Kyle, I'm a cop. I was sent here, because of what he did to you." He shook his head, keeping the gun steady. "It's over. He's going to go jail."

Adler shook his head. "Not good enough." There were tears in his eyes, and as he stopped in front of Greene, a few slipped down his cheeks.

In a split second, Dennis decided to take a chance with the kid. "I know."

"No, you don't!" Kyle was crying now, his shoulders shaking even as he miraculously managed to keep his weapon aimed.

"Yes, I do." He kept his voice flat. "I had the same thing happen to me. I know what you're thinking right now, and this guy deserves whatever you want to do to him." He paused as Adler's grip on the gun actually tightened. "But if you kill him, you let him completely ruin your life – and you can't get that back." _Where the hell is Penhall?_

"He already ruined it! I _can't_ get it back!"

"Yes, you can. I know. It'll take a long time, but you can. I did."

"No. No. I can't." Adler's finger tightened on the trigger, and as it did, Dennis saw Greene move toward Kyle. "Hold it!" When the teacher froze once more, Booker returned his attention to the boy. "Kyle, I'm gonna arrest him. He's gonna go to jail; he's not gonna get away with this. If you kill him, all you'll be doing is letting him screw your life up even more. Don't do it."

His words seemed to finally penetrate Adler's mind, and he started to lower the gun. Before Dennis had a chance to move, though, Greene had lunged forward, grabbing for the weapon.

-------------------------

Reaching the parking lot and the car stopped half on the pavement, half on the grass, Doug knelt beside the boy who was sitting, leaning against a tire. "What happened?"

"I, um… the car…" he glanced up at the other boys, then back at Penhall. "I jumped… out of the way, before it hit me."

Doug frowned, looking the kid over. He didn't seem to have a scratch. "You want we should call an ambulance, or something?"

His eyes went wide. "No! I mean, I'm okay… nothing broke or anything, y'know? And I don't… I don't want Greg to get in trouble. I think he's already got scared enough."

Something strange was going on here, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Okay, then." Still frowning, he stood up, and started back toward the school, tossing glances over his shoulder and unable to shake the bad feeling he had.

He was almost to the entrance when a loud crack split the air. His step faltered for a second before he broke into a run, spurred on by a second gunshot.


	19. Chapter 19

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content),child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer: **As much as I would kill to own Tom Hanson and Dennis Booker, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Jump Street, either. Too bad for me.

* * *

**A/N: **Now that we have ways to reply directly to comments from logged-in reviewers, I've done so. Check your email. I'll make quick replies to the anonymous reviewers here.

**Lauren - **I love Tom and Booker. Glad you find Dennis at least tolerable in this :-) Sorry it took sooooooooo long to update; real life and an extracted tooth got in the way. Forgive me?

**Fanfic Fish - **Yes, real life has been quite difficult lately. I'm sooo sorry it took so long to update. There will be a lot from both Booker and Hanson coming up, alternatingly. In fact, a significant amount of Booker face-time is coming. Oh, and I love cliffies too :)

**Nina - **Sorry to leave it so long, but real life chose to be difficult. You'll see soon who got shot. >evil grin>

**Jenny - **Not really soon, but, here's the update :-D Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 19**

Booker's eyes widened as the gun went off. Both Greene and Adler seemed to freeze for a split second before the kid staggered back. From where he stood, Dennis felt like he was watching a movie, Adler falling almost in slow motion, his own weapon rising almost of it's own accord. He fired, barely feeling the kickback as he watched the impact of the bullet knock Greene into the chalkboard.

The moment Greene hit the floor, though, he snapped out of the slightly stunned haze and half-jumped the teacher's desk to reach Adler's side. He'd just knelt beside him when the door banged open, and without looking up, yelled for the newcomer – Penhall, as it turned out – to call an ambulance.

He heard Doug relay the message to someone else and glanced over in time to see the other man kneel next to Greene. "Is he alive?" he asked tersely.

"Yeah. Shot went high, right shoulder," his partner replied. "What the hell happened?"

"Not now." Dennis tore open Adler's shirt, then ripped off the sleeve and balled the cloth, pressing it against the bullet hole in the kid's stomach, only belatedly realizing someone had brought a first-aid kit. Keeping pressure on the wound, he opened the kit with one hand and pulled out a handful of gauze pads. "Open those." He thrust them at a teacher hovering by his elbow, then shoved the kit toward Penhall.

"Kyle, say something, kid, will you?"

"Didn't… think…"

_No kidding_, he thought to himself, though he wasn't about to say it aloud. "It's okay. Just keep talking, don't matter what you say." If the kid lost consciousness, he wanted to know when.

"Hurts, Dennis."

"Yeah, gunshot wounds aren't much fun," he muttered. "Ambulance'll be here soon." He replaced the blood-soaked cloth with a handful of gauze, then moved one hand to take Adler's. "Squeeze my hand; it'll help a little."

"Not… whole lot."

"That's why I said a little." He forced a smile at the boy, his stomach clenching at the fear in the kid's eyes, and glanced over at Penhall. "Is he conscious?"

"Uh-uh. He hit his head on the chalk tray." Doug looked ill. "Sorry I wasn't here, man…"

"Not now," Booker snapped. He wanted to have _that_ conversation somewhere where he could give Penhall what he'd been wanting to for the last couple weeks – a nice right hook.

A second later he heard sirens scream and, rising slightly, was able to see a police cruiser and an ambulance pulling into the lot. "Someone go show them where to come," Doug barked, before Dennis had the chance.

Booker was only too glad to hand care of Adler over to the first paramedics who came through the door, though the kid refused to release his hand until he was in the ambulance and had garnered a promise that Dennis would come to the hospital. Greene hadn't regained consciousness by the time he was on his way, but the EMTs had assured both Dennis and Doug, as well as the patrol officers who'd responded to the call, that he would be fine.

As he tried to wipe the blood from his hands, Dennis closed his eyes and leaned against his own car, trying to figure out if there was any way he could have prevented what had happened in the classroom. His thoughts were interrupted when Doug and one of the uniformed officers approached. "Would someone like to tell me what's going on here?"

It took a second for Dennis to realize that the man standing in front of him – Officer Reed – had been one of the men to respond to Joanne's party the day before. "We're on a case—"

"I gathered that," Reed interrupted.

"What _did_ happen?" Penhall asked. At the officer's questioning glance, Doug shrugged. "I was outside, getting the wool pulled over my eyes by some kids." He shot a glare over his shoulder at three boys clustered behind him, who seemed to shrink under his gaze.

Dennis blinked. "Wait, what?"

"How about _I_ ask the questions here?" Reed snapped. "What happened, in the classroom?"

"I had Greene against the wall, about to cuff him, when Adler came in with a gun pointed at him. Surprised me, and Greene shoved me off him, but he froze when I drew mine." He gestured toward the holster he was wearing, though he didn't really remember returning the weapon to its proper place. "I started trying to talk Adler out of it, and the second he started to lower the gun, Greene went after him. I didn't fire until I had a clear shot, because I didn't want to hit the kid… but the first clear shot I had was after Adler's gun went off." He closed his eyes, visualizing the entire scene.

"So Greene shot Adler?" Doug asked, his voice – to Dennis's surprise – void of skepticism.

"I don't know. The gun went off. I don't even know who had a finger on the trigger. Couldn't see."

"So you fired after the kid was shot?" Reed pressed.

"As he was falling, immediately after the gun went off."

"You couldn't have done anything before then?"

Biting back a retort that would probably get him suspended when all was said and done, Booker shook his head. "No. If I tried to get in between them, I'd have probably gotten myself shot. And if I'd tried to shoot Greene beforehand, I could have hit the kid." As he said the words, a wave of anger washed over him and he balled his fist, pounding it into the hood of the car. "I was this close to getting them both out of there without a fucking scratch." It infuriated him that he hadn't been able to prevent it.

"Whoa, cool out, man," Doug interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "From the sound of it, you handled it as well as anyone could've." He shot a hard look at Reed, that didn't go unnoticed by Dennis. "At least, sounds that way to me."

The officer gave a grudging nod, then effectively ended the conversation, doing nothing more than handing Dennis his clipboard to sign the statement. "We'll call you," he said as he walked away, leaving the two officers alone.

After a minute or two Dennis spoke, more because the silence between them was too much for him to deal with at the moment. "Thanks."

Doug looked genuinely surprised. "For what?"

"You know that guy Reed thinks I screwed up."

"Yeah, well, if anyone screwed up it sure wasn't you," Penhall replied, shaking his head.

Resisting the urge to agree with Doug, Dennis just shrugged. "What happened?"

"One of Adler's friends came flying down the hall, yelling that somebody'd been hit by a car. Followed him outside, the kid's sitting up, leaning against the car, and says he jumped out of the way before he got hit. Didn't have a scratch."

"A trick?" Dennis raised an eyebrow.

"That's what I'm thinking." Doug looked down. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have fallen for it."

"I would have." Booker shrugged. "Forget it." He shoved his hands in his pockets, still a little tinged with red from Adler's blood. "I'm going to the hospital to see how Adler is, and then home. Tell Tom for me, will you?"

"Fuller'll have your ass in a sling if you don't come back to the Chapel," Penhall pointed out.

Dennis had already turned away and didn't look back. "I'll live."

--------------------------

Once he reached the hospital, Dennis showed his badge to the young woman at the desk and said, "I'm here about Kyle Adler. He was brought in with a gunshot wound about an hour ago, maybe a little longer."

"Oh, yes." The woman nodded, giving him a smile that seemed out of place in the emergency room. "He's in surgery at the moment."

"Anyone here for him?"

"His parents. Over there." She nodded toward a well-dressed couple in the corner. The woman looked like she'd been crying, and was leaning heavily on her husband. Dennis thanked the girl without a second glance and walked away.

He kept his badge out as he made his way over. "Mr. and Mrs. Adler?"

"Yes." The father frowned. "Who—"

Booker raised the badge. "I'm Officer Dennis Booker. I was assigned to investigate the complaint you and your son filed against Derek Greene, and I was present today when he was shot." He gestured to a set of chairs. "Would you both sit down?"

Once they were seated Mrs. Adler, still clinging to her husband, said, "I wasn't aware there was an investigation. They told us that they would look into the situation, but that it would be difficult to get anywhere…" She trailed off and blinked against tears in her eyes, and Dennis wordlessly handed her a tissue from the box resting on a table next to him.

"There has been, for a couple of weeks now." He paused. "I assume the police have already spoken to you about today?" When the father nodded, he went on. "How much did they tell you?"

"Just that his teacher had been shot as well, and that they were investigating," Mr. Adler replied bitterly. "They wouldn't even tell us who shot him."

"That's because they don't know exactly what happened; I don't, and I was there." Dennis paused. "Your son brought a gun to the school, with the intention of shooting Mr. Greene."

"Kyle—" Mrs. Adler began, then stopped and glanced over at her husband. "Where could he have gotten a gun?"

Booker was a little surprised that neither of them protested the idea that their son would have done such a thing, but didn't comment. Instead, he waited until Mr. Adler spoke again.

"Danny." He raised his eyes. "My brother Danny… he has a handgun. Kyle was over there last night." He hesitated. "Was… was it a revolver?"

Dennis nodded slowly. "It was."

"Did you shoot my son?"

Booker started, surprised as much by Kyle's mother's sudden question as by the tone of her voice. Where he'd have expected accusations, he heard only sadness and resignation. "No, I didn't. Kyle came into the classroom when I was about to arrest Greene. He startled me, and I lost my grip. Greene started toward Kyle, but he stopped because we were both aiming at him. I started trying to talk Kyle out of shooting him, and just as he started to put the gun down, Greene went after him. I didn't have a clear shot, and then the gun went off. I don't know if Greene actually shot him, or if it just went off in the struggle."

They were all silent for a while, before Mrs. Adler said, "Thank you."

Dennis raised an eyebrow. "For?"

"For telling us. And for trying to stop him. I… I had no idea." She blinked and shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue. "What will happen to him?"

"I don't know. The most he could be charged with is unlawful possession of a firearm, and assault. And there are mitigating circumstances, and psychological issues to consider…" he trailed off at Mr. Adler's strained look.

"Are you saying our son is crazy, Officer Booker?" he asked tightly, his eyes making clear just what he thought of that.

"Not at all." Dennis leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "I'm just saying that when the DA considers the case, I know they'll consider the emotional trauma that brought him to that point."

The man relaxed a bit at that. "I'm sorry, officer. This has all just been very… difficult… on all of us. Kyle in particular, of course, but, well…"

Realizing that Mr. Adler was struggling for words, Dennis spoke. "Of course. I understand." He paused and straightened up. Standing, he dug in his pocket for a business card and then handed it over to Kyle's father. "I need to get going, but I'd promised Kyle I would come to the hospital, and I wanted to speak to you, to let you know what happened."

"Thank you." Mrs. Adler stood. "We do appreciate it… we appreciate everything you've done for our son."

"I wish I could have done more." He took a deep breath and released it slowly. "If you could call me when you know more about Kyle's condition, I'd appreciate it. And… tell him I'll come back tomorrow."

With that and a couple of quick handshakes, he left the hospital. Driving off, he wondered how many phone messages he'd be coming home to, and made a mental note not to play a single one.


	20. Chapter 20

**Warning: **Slash (homosexual content), rape, depression, suicidal thoughts, child abuse, domestic violence – and whatever other angst I can manage to work in. If you don't like this, don't read it, for flames only serve as a source of amusement for me.

**Rating:** T

**Chapter 20**

Booker didn't have the chance to listen to messages, even if he'd wanted to. Hanson was already there, sitting on the couch inside his apartment waiting for him, when he got home. "Hey."

"How was your day?" Dennis asked, not that he had any interest whatsoever in talking about his own.

"Well, most of the day my head felt like it was gonna explode, compounded by Joanne yelling at me – _yelling at me!_ – for drinking too much." He shook his head. "All in all, not as exciting as yours." There was no smile in his eyes or humor in his voice. "Doug told me what happened."

Dennis shrugged and crossed the floor, making his way toward the kitchen. He took out the same bottle of Jack that Tom had wrestled away from him the other night. Not bothering with a glass, he took a long swig straight from the bottle. "Shit."

Behind him, Hanson sighed. "Not this again."

Locking his jaw, Dennis kept his back to his lover. "Lay off, Tom."

"No. You have your way and you'd keep drinking and keep shutting me out and, sorry man, but that's not gonna fly with me." Tom took a couple steps forward and reached a hand out, resting it on the bottle. "Let go."

"No." Booker yanked it away and half-stumbled backward, taking another long drink. This time Tom made no move to stop him, and he took a third sip. "I should have known he was going to do that."

"Why?" Hanson had apparently given up on the drinking thing – for the moment anyway – and was glad just to have him talking. "Why should you have known?"

"I just should have. And… even if I didn't, when he came in, I shouldn't have lost control of the situation like that."

"Yeah, and Penhall shouldn't have been taken in by those kids, either, but he was and you did – not that you could have kept control of it anyhow. Dennis, what happened isn't your fault. It's not your fault what Greene did to Adler, and it's not your fault Adler brought a gun to school, and it's not your fault Greene went for it."

Tom reached out and took Booker's free hand. "Look, babe, Adler is going to be fine, and some good will probably come of this. Greene's going down – there's no question about that – and Adler's parents will get him some help, which he obviously needs."

Dennis sighed and took another long drink, deliberately avoiding his boyfriend's eyes. He never replied and, after one last sip, clanked the bottle down on the counter and walked out of the kitchen.

-------------------------

_Dennis sighed and shifted in his chair, fully aware of the additional attention his black eye had gotten him from a couple of the girls in his class. More than that, though, he was aware of the additional attention it had gotten from Schenck – not for the first time and, with his luck, not for the last._

_He spent the last half hour of class doodling on his notebook, scribbles and geometric shapes that served to do little more than distract him from the thoughts running through his mind. Then the bell rang, and he was up and out of his chair, not bothering even to shove his books into his bag; he was determined to be the first one out of class and not get trapped into another awkward conversation – if you could call it that – with Schenck._

_The effort was entirely in vain. He wasn't able to lose himself in the flow of students before his instructor saw him, despite actually making it into the hall and thinking he was home free. "Dennis, could I speak with you for a moment?"_

No,_ he replied mentally, though he stopped in the middle of the corridor. He ignored the instinct to run as he walked slowly back toward the classroom. "What?"_

"_Your manners are underwhelming," Schenck replied dryly._

"_So they tell me." Dennis had long ago given up all pretense of ignoring the tension between them._

_The older man, resting a hand on his shoulder, guided him back into the classroom and shut the door, and Dennis suddenly started to feel a little claustrophobic. "Sit down," he said gently, sounding almost kind. The claustrophobia dissipated, replaced by nausea._

_He sat, clutching both sides of the desktop so hard his knuckles went white, and Schenck knelt down in front of him. A hand appeared on his knee, then moved toward his thigh. "Your father – he hit you again, didn't he?"_

_Dennis shrugged it off, but nodded when Schenck persisted. "Don't matter."_

"_Yes it does." His teacher reached out with his other hand, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "He shouldn't do that."_

"_Pot. Kettle." Booker glared, and Schenck raised an eyebrow._

"_It's not hardly the same thing, Dennis."_

_He choked back what he really wanted to say and shrugged instead. "Whatever."_

"_Was it because of your test?" the instructor asked slowly, and after a long silence, Dennis nodded._

"_Like usual." He kicked himself the moment the words crossed his lips._

"_We can change that." The hand on Dennis' thigh moved inward, a light caress over his jeans, before slipping between his legs. Tears welled in the young man's eyes, but he didn't pull away. "Let me help you, Dennis."_

_He wanted to say no; he _should_ say no. He should kick the guy in the jaw and take off. But he didn't move when Schenck's hand grew heavier, the touching more insistent; he didn't turn his head when the man leaned up to kiss him; he didn't make a sound as Schenck unfastened his jeans…_

Dennis jolted up in bed, struggling for air that couldn't quite reach his lungs past the lump in his throat. Beside him, he felt Tom shift and slowly sit up. He jerked away from the hand that found its way to his back and climbed out of bed, still breathing heavily and fighting down panic.

He crossed the floor to reach the window and stared out, ignoring the cold breeze coming through the screen.

It was a minute or two before he heard the faint creak of the floor that signaled his lover's approach. He felt a hesitant hand on his back, and when he didn't pull away, Tom's arms circled his torso, coming to rest on his stomach. His boyfriend lightly rested his chin on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Dennis thought about lying, but Tom wouldn't believe him regardless. "No." His voice was hoarse, and the single word came out as barely even a whisper. To his dismay, he felt tears fill his eyes, and swiped at them with the back of his hand.

"Schenck?" Hanson asked gently, the softness of his voice taking away some of the pain he normally associated with the name.

"Yeah."

Tom moved a bit closer, his arms tightening just a bit. "Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Okay." He felt his boyfriend's lips brush lightly against his bare shoulder. "Come back to bed, Dennis."

Instead of moving or in any way even acknowledging the request, Dennis whispered instead, "I let him."

"Babe—"

"I could have fought him, or something. I didn't even say no, Tommy."

"You were thirteen, Dennis. You cannot blame yourself for this. He was your teacher. He took advantage of what he knew about you, and he molested and raped you." Tom was speaking clinically, as a police officer first and his lover second, but on the last words, Dennis heard his voice break. "What he did to you was not your fault. The guy was slime, and whatever happened to him – whoever did it – he deserved what he got, and there's not a person alive who would say any different."

"Part of me… just wanted to let Adler kill Greene."

"That's understandable," Tom replied. He released Dennis, raising his hands to Booker's shoulders, and Dennis leaned back into his touch. "Remember the girl I told you about – the one who asked me to kill her father?"

"Yeah." He didn't move, just stared harder out the window.

"Doug was on my case about not going to him and Fuller right after she asked me. When he found out _why_ she wanted him dead, he said, 'Maybe you should kill him. Maybe I'll do it for you.'" Tom kneaded his back gently. "Despite how badly everything went down, Doug and the Captain and me – we didn't shed any tears over it. And if there _wasn't_ a part of you that wanted to see Greene get what he deserved, I'd be worried about you."

"Cops aren't supposed to wish people dead."

"Bullshit. If you can show me one person in the department who hasn't, I'll…"

"You'll what?" Dennis finally turned to face him.

"I'll think of something when it's not three a.m."

"That a hint?"

"Come back to bed, babe. You gotta deal with Fuller in the morning."

Booker eyed him, frowning. "Are you _trying_ to give me nightmares?" But he followed Tom back to bed and felt slightly comforted as his boyfriend slipped an arm around his shoulders once they were back under the sheets.

-------------------------

"As I said yesterday," Dennis didn't miss the pointed glance the Captain sent in his direction, "you two are warming the bench for a few days. Wrap up your paperwork and make yourselves available for any questions they have downtown – and there _will_ be questions. Lots of 'em." His expression softened slightly, looking a little sad, before he turned his attention to Hanson. "Where do we stand with _your_ case?"

"I have a date with Joanne tomorrow night." Tom hesitated. "There's something weird about it; she's being really insistent and secretive."

"Any way you can take backup?"

"Only with a tracer. She's driving and I have no idea where we're going."

The Captain heaved a sigh. "I don't like it, Hanson."

"Well, me either. Waking up in the hospital this weekend wasn't exactly my idea of a good time. But I think this is it, and I don't have any other idea of how to end it." Tom glanced around the table. "Now I know what to look for, and I'll be ready for her to try something."

"Being ready might not be enough, Hanson," Judy interrupted. "We were all pretty ready for her to do something this weekend, but it still happened."

Hanson pushed back his chair and threw up his hands as he stood. "Look, if you don't want to let me do my job, what's the point of keeping me on the case? Why don't we just close the case and file it away, and let someone downtown go over to the Crisals and tell them no one's ever going to find out why one of their daughters is dead?"

As much as he didn't want to admit it, Dennis knew Tom was right. If they ever wanted to find out what had happened in the parking lot that night, Hanson had to do this. Just like he'd had to face Greene on Monday, no matter how difficult it was – and how badly it had turned out. "He's right," he said. "Either Hanson does it or we may as well close the book on the whole damn thing."

The nagging feeling that had appeared when he started to speak now felt like a lead weight in his gut. Something was going to go wrong. He glanced first toward Penhall, then Jude and Harry, studiously avoiding his boyfriend. They wore identical expressions, neither trying to hide their discomfort with the plans for tomorrow, and for the first time he didn't have the urge to disagree with Doug just to disagree.

After a long silence, Fuller finally nodded. "All right. I don't like it, but all right. You're wired and Hoffs and Ioki are following you all night."

"No wire." Dennis looked up, surprised at Judy's interruption.

Apparently, Fuller was surprised too. "What?"

"You haven't seen this girl, Captain. She's all over him like white on rice. If he's wired, she'll find it."

"He can't go in cold," Booker protested. This sounded too much like his night with Christine.

"I don't have a choice," Hanson argued, and Dennis had to look away, knowing his relationship was clouding his judgment. "If I don't, then our case is history. Besides, if Jude and Iokage tail me, it'll be fine."

Dennis looked to Fuller, hoping their captain would put an end to the idea once and for all, but the man just nodded, looking a mix of tired and resigned. "All right. But if you even _think_ that something _might_ go wrong, you get out and don't worry about blowing your cover."

"Got it, Coach." Hanson nodded, and Booker couldn't help but notice how intently Tom _didn't_ look his way.


End file.
